


Moonlight on Water

by hippiemama3



Series: Daughters of the Storm [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Death, F/M, Gore, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Smut, Tortue, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 168,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippiemama3/pseuds/hippiemama3
Summary: Broken by the loss of her brother, an assassin makes her way to Skyhold, intent on facing Judgment for her crimes. Instead she finds Cullen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my fanfic. Reviews, comments, and thoughts are all appreciated.
> 
> World Notes: I set this pretty much in the default setting for Inquisition. The Warden sacrificed himself, Alistair is king, no dark ritual done.
> 
> This isn't true to canon, there are things I have changed to suit my whims. But I tried to stay true to the feel of the game itself. Cullen gets the girl a bit faster than in game time, I have no patience and could not drag things out further. I tried, I really tried, and I just couldn't. I have a particular fascination with the idea of an assassin. In history, in games, in books, in all types of media. When the idea for this popped in my head, I knew exactly who my main character was going to be. She is NOT the Inquisitor, I wanted something a little different.
> 
> Acknowledgements:
> 
> I realized, sometime around the birth of my 2nd girl, that I have been raised by awesome women. I wrote my characters with the women that have raised me, been there with me, and are helping me raise my girls in mind. There is a bit of me in Talise, Valissia and Amelia, but there is also much of the fierce, strong, independent, faithful and non-believing, patient and hot-tempered, crazy and stable, old and young women I have known. May we be strong women, may we know strong women, and may we raise them.
> 
> To the group of homeschoolers who I stumbled into about this time last year: Y'all are awesome. Thank you for the guidance, the support, the coffee and booze. Most of all, thank you for reminding me to do things for myself. I can not pour from an empty cup, and I needed y'all to remind me of that. Without the reminder to do things for myself, Moonlight on Water would be a story in my head.
> 
> To my beta readers: Thank you for putting up with my crazy ideas, for re-reading after I rewrote the story, for talking game and backstory and game history with me.
> 
> And finally, to my Cullen. It's been nearly 8 years since you gave me your last name. It's been 7 since you taught me that honor, duty, and sacrifice are larger than love. You are the best husband and father I could have wished for. I told you, each time you left, that I would see you on the other side of the war you were fighting. And here we are, on the other side. Love you.
> 
> Small update: I have never been unhappy with the beginning, and so I took some time this morning to fix it. Also, I have chapters in various states of work, and I am trying to get them finished, sent off to my beta-readers (love y'all) and then published. But I have two small children. And I homeschool them. And everyone needs clean clothes and dinner at my house. Updating is much slower with two kids than it was with one. Before I forget, some chapters, and some scenes within chapters, I wrote while listening to specific songs, I'm including them with the chapters.

Song: Jeff Buckley, "Hallelujah"

 

Even in ruins, the fortress was impressive. Gray stone towers still lifted to the heavens, now dark with night, and studded with blinking, twinkling stars. The keep was lit from within, glowing from countless torches and candles, as people worked long into the night, rebuilding the castle, building themselves a home high up in the cold mountain air. Darkness did nothing to stem the stream of people coming in through the main gates; some seeking shelter, some seeking refuge, some joining the Inquisition, and some coming for their own reasons.

Standing half-torn down, it struck a sense of awe into the heart of the young woman that emerged from the shadows. Dark hair, the color of chocolate warmed by faint traces of chestnut, hung loosely down her back, a few parts pulled back away from her face, revealing a finely boned face, high cheekbones, a delicate nose, and brilliant blue eyes, shifting from a light blue to a dark blue, surrounded by a heavy forest of sooty dark lashes. She fell into step beside a red-headed woman, who reached out towards her, and they clasped hands tightly as they made their way across a muddy courtyard, cool mud and water splashing with every step.

They made their way to the survivor lists, where a group of people were huddled, scanning for names of family and friends. With apprehension in her stormy gaze, the mage stepped up to the lists, while the brunette held back, one slim fingered hand rising to adjust the twin daggers that sat sheathed on her shoulders, a gesture that betrayed her own nerves as she surveyed the courtyard with a bright, focused gaze.

“Talise??” A voice, familiar, cut through the crowd, and the woman turned, shaking away her study of the keep, and facing the blond- haired dwarf. Varric could not help the grin that split his face as the woman turned, and she found herself caught up in a hug, “Andraste’s tits, I thought you were dead.”

She managed a wobbly smile, but her attention is taken by the mage, turning to them, tugging on the sleeve of the long gray tunic Talise wears, “His name isn’t on the survivors list. Talise, where is he?”

Varric blanched, reaching out a hand to curl around the mage’s silken clad arm, “Valissia, you better come with me.”

“Where is Jordan? We heard about some explosion at the Conclave, and then the breach opened, and then it was closed. And we got word that Haven had been overrun by some sort of demon army and then an avalanche came. I don’t see him and why aren’t you worried Talise?”, nerves have the mage babbling, the words tumbling out past her trembling lips in a rush, as tears fill her eyes, making her storm gray gaze sparkle in the light, and spiking her dark lashes.

“Come with me. I’ll take you to the Inquisitor, and his advisors. They can explain things.” Varric sighs, bowing his head as he takes the woman with him into the Keep, stopping to ask for the Inquisitor, and then steering them gently in the direction of the war room. Within moments, the buzz of activity in the war room came to a stop, and as Varric spoke, and told them who was waiting outside.

Valissia, the redheaded mage came first, stepping into the firelight of the war room, and Christopher Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, swayed for a moment, his movement drawing a look of surprise from Leiliana, who missed nothing. He was staring at one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen; gray eyes, too large for her features, dominated her face, pale skin dotted with freckles, and shining red hair, gleaming with fiery highlights in the fire and candlelight.

“This is Valissia Morrine, she was family friends with one of the soldiers at Haven…” Varric paused, looking back to the shadows, one gray shadow seemed to shift, and he beckoned to it with an open hand, “C’mere Talise, you need to hear this too.”

When Varric had spoken to a shadow, the Commander of the Inquisition, Cullen Rutherford, had raised one tawny eyebrow, his amber gaze narrowing as he studied the shadow, wondering if Varric was either seeing things. There was no hint of movement from the shadowy spot Varric was looking at. A second later, one slow step by another, a woman stepped from the shadows, seeming made of the very shadows she had been hiding in. Cullen sucked in a breath, barely remembering to keep his features neutral and composed, even as he felt like someone had slammed their weight into his ribs, his amber gaze was locked on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Talise Montgomery”, Varric introduced her to the group standing before her, pointing out the members of the group one by one, “Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker, Leiliana, whose work is more delicate, and Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the military forces. And Christopher Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste.”

Talise nodded at each one, her bright gaze lifting from one person to another, and despite all that was going on, despite the heaviness in the room, she wobbled for a brief second when her cerulean gaze collided with the Commander’s warm amber one. One slender hand, gloved in dark gray, reached out for Valissia in an unconscious gesture, and when the Mage curled her fingers back around Talise’s in support, she squeezed hard.

“They’ve come for news of Talise’s brother, Jordan”, Varric paused, looking at the floor, studying his boots as he heaved a sigh.

Christopher beckoned to a young guard nearby, “Send in some extra chairs, please, and some refreshments.”

“Oh Maker… what has happened?” Valissia sniffled then, unable to keep her tears at bay any longer, and they left silvery tracks on her freckled cheeks, the emerald silk she wears turning dark as her tears fall onto her robes.

Gently, the Herald led both women through the events that surrounded the fall of Haven, asking questions of them as he spoke. Though Cullen studied both women, he found his gaze going back to Talise more and more often, the mage cried openly, sniffling back tears; but the rogue, wrapped in leather leggings of deep black, a brace of throwing knives tied around her one slim thigh, never said a word.

“So… he is dead then. Haven was taken over by some monster, and the Herald triggered an avalanche”, the glass of water she held trembled slightly in her grip as Valissia spoke

Christopher nodded, taking the glass from her and setting it on the war table, before it would crash to the ground, “I am so sorry. He fought bravely. They all did.”

Valissa lifted tear-filled eyes to the spot where Talise had been, but she was gone, a faint breeze blowing in her place, the young woman had disappeared into the shadows. Unable to take anymore, the mage’s stormy gaze rolled up behind her lashes, and she fainted, falling forward and sliding to the ground.

It took several minutes to get Valissia up to a room, resting and asleep after a healer gave her a tonic, her red hair spread out on the pillow behind her head, downy lashes nearly brushing the tops of her smooth cheeks. In the ensuing chaos, Talise had simply vanished with a skill that was startling. Varric searched with Cullen, telling the Commander of Talise; she was Jordan’s sister, she had traveled with him, when Jordan took the post of Captain of the Royal Guard to King Alistair she had frequently gone to Denerim, and that at some point in time they had run across their childhood friend, the mage sleeping upstairs. The story stopped with the explosion at the Conclave, neither the woman resting upstairs nor the one missing, had been there. Varric had feared for them both, but there had been no time to look for them or even send out letters. 

“And that is all there it to tell”, coming to a stop in a hallway, Varric looked up, into the rafters, “She likes high places and the shadows.”

“She’s is a rogue then?” Cullen tilted his head up, raking a hand through his golden blonde hair as he did so.

“Yeah, she’s one of us.” Varric turned a corner, coming into the courtyard where the chapel stood, and peeked into the doorway, leaning back out and motioning to the Commander, “She’s in there. You’re better at this part than I am.”

Cullen stopped, the sound from his boots echoing even as his feet stayed were they were, his brow furrowed, “What… which part?”

“You know, the whole believing thing.” Varric cast one last look at Talise, and sighed, then stepped away to let Cullen past him.

Cullen somehow found himself in the chapel, and he stared at the young woman in front of him. A long gray cloak, so dark it nearly appeared black until candlelight struck it, stretched out behind her, flowing over the steps, and he moved it gently to one side before sinking to his knees beside her.

“I can’t get the words out”, her head was buried her hands, her small frame bent over the steps, sparkling tears dotted the stone floor, reflecting the candlelight. Long dark hair cascaded over her face, hiding her from Cullen’s view as he looked at her.

“Sometimes it happens to me too. Sometimes it feels like no one answers prayers”, with a deliberate slowness, giving her plenty of time to pull away, he reached out with one gloved hand, curling it around both of hers. Her hands were slender, small, he held them both easily in one hand, and they trembled as he wrapped his gloved fingers around hers.

“My whole world has been blown apart”, a ragged breath escaped her, and she choked back another sob, the tiny sound echoing in the chapel.

Something unfurled in his heart, and Cullen squeezed her hands with his one hand, “The dawn always comes. It will come again.”

“I can’t say the words.” A soft whimper escaped her, as she dropped her forehead onto the back of his hand, where he held hers, shivers wracking her form as the tears finally came.

“I will then”, he leaned closer to her, the dark circles showing around his tired eyes as they closed, and bowed his head. The words came to him, as he prayed he shifted his grip on her, her shoulders were shaking so hard she rocked back and forth as he slid an arm around them, pulling her to his side, “Though all before me is shadow. Yet shall the Maker be my guide….”

It was well past midnight when he stopped, the stone in front of them spotted with her tears, the small form at his side calm now, her tears finally gone. Gently he tugged her from her spot on the stairs, wincing as his joints protested with his movements, a grimace twisting his features when a lance of pain arced through him. With each step the pain lessened, and at the doors he nodded towards the dwarven rogue, who waited for them, wordlessly Varric took Talise’s hand, and led her towards the room where Valissia rested.

Talise looked back over her shoulder as Varric led her across the garden, back towards the doorway, where Cullen stood. Although her eyes were still filled with sadness, they were clear for the first time in hours as she looked at the Commander. Her steps slowed, almost paused, as if she debated walked back towards him; when Varric tugged on her hand, she looked at the dwarf, cast one last look back at the former templar, standing in the doorway, and then leaned into the surface dwarf, following him.

Cullen watched them go, his heart aching more fiercely than it had in ages. All the death and destruction he had seen, all the war, and one woman’s tears had brought him to his knees. He wanted to go after them, to take her back from Varric; to take her from Skyhold and keep her somewhere safe, his heart clenched with the notion. He stood in the doorway of the chapel, golden candlelight shining in his hair, his eyes glowing amber in the night, until long after Talise had disappeared around a corner.


	2. Chapter 2

The dawn did indeed come, and with it a loud fight between the two young women. They had argued through a quick bath, through getting dressed. Varric had knocked on their door, only to back away as he heard curses coming from within, and then the sound of something heavy, like books hitting the walls, rattled the door.

A pale, but composed Valissia came to the main hall later, whispering to Cassandra, who announced that someone had come to the Inquisitor, to be judged. A few minutes later, Christopher sat on that blasted throne, uncomfortable, and unhappy looking, flanked by Cullen, Leiliana, and Josephine, all three of them having come down to watch the proceedings. The Seeker had rounded up everyone who was present the previous night, when Talise and Valissia had been told of Jordan Montgomery’s death.

The doors opened, and Talise walked in. Her dark head was held high, her long tresses twisted into a braid, that hung almost down to her waist. Bright blue eyes flashed a warning at Valissia, before she gracefully walked the length of the throne room, stopping at the bottom of the steps.

“Why are you here Talise?” Christopher managed to get the words out, his eyebrows steadily working their way up his forehead. To one side he saw Valissia, her eyes red and slightly puffy, her fingers twisting a necklace she wore around her fingers.

“To be judged”, Talise lifted her trembling chin, refusing to meet Valissia’s gaze, not out of anger, but because she would weaken and give in. Tears swamped Valissia’s eyes, and she was forced to look at the floor, unable to watch her friend stand before the Inquisitor’s throne any longer.

Cullen and Cassandra shared shocked gazes, the Seeker lifting a shoulder in confusion back at the Commander. For a moment, he caught a flash of bright blue as Talise looked at him, and her features softened, that something that had passed between them in the chapel squeezed painfully around his heart once more.

“Judged for what?” Christopher’s question hung in the air, the room hushed and quiet.

Instead of an answer, Talise held out the book she had carried with her, gray leather, silver edged pages, and Christopher stood, flicking through a few pages, before handing it to Leiliana. The spymaster read several pages, then looked up at Talise, her icy blue gaze wide in shock, “No. You cannot be.”

“Be what?” Cullen’s voice was more than a little irritated as he spoke, his jaw tight with tension, and he folded his arms over his chest with an impatient gesture.

“Ghost. This book details the jobs taken by the Ghost of Ferelden” Leiliana spoke the words in a hushed whisper, her eyes still locked on Talise, “My agents have been searching for Ghost for years, with never a hint of who she was.”

“The assassin?” Josephine nearly dropped the roll of parchment she was holding, her dark eyes wide, and one slender hand raised to her throat, “Even in Antiva she is famous.”

“Where… where did you get the book Talise?” For a moment Cullen did nothing, his warm amber eyes locked onto Talise, until finally he moved from his spot and came to stand beside her, curling his fingers around her arm and tugging her to face him, “What are you doing?”

“Talise!!!! Stop it!!!” Varric shouted from the doors, rushing down the length of the room, “Jordan would not want this, and you know it!! Valissia needs you here. You can still do something to help.”

“You knew??!” Cullen could not stop the shout that left him as he turned on the dwarf, his fingers curled tight around Talise’s arm, torn between pulling her to him and pushing her away.

“Of course I did! I’ve known her for years”, undeterred by the Commander’s anger, Varric walked up the steps, “It wasn’t my place to reveal who she is. And just what did you tell her last night, that has her here to confess and be judged? I sent you to her to help her!”

The Commander blanched, looking down at Talise, who met his gaze for just a few moments, before she faltered, and her sky touched gaze dropped from his, leaving him feeling oddly bereft, “You’re really Ghost?”

Her head moved as she nodded, her lashes obscuring her gaze as she closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself for the judgment coming, and suddenly unable to bear it. Cullen took a moment to look at Talise, looking past the delicate beauty, to truly see her. A short sword and long dagger were sheathed on her back, a brace of throwing knives strapped around one leather clad thigh, he could see the handles of stiletto knives sticking out of her boots. A scar ran across the back of one pale hand, and his fingers moved to the scar, tracing the milky white line with calloused finger tips.

“While you have been bickering and staring at her, we’ve been reading”, Cassandra spoke then, her gaze locked onto Talise’s arm, where Cullen’s hand was still curled around it. She stood next to Christopher, and on the other side of him stood Leiliana, who held the book.

“You’ve walked a fine line. You’ve never killed an innocent, you chose to render guards unconscious, killing only when you are cornered and have no way out. But your kill list is made up of some horrible people”, Leiliana gestured to the book she holds, “I am not sorry that many of these people are gone.”

“I agree” Cassandra nodded, “You’ve done good work. You caught an insurrection as it formed in Denerim, likely saving King Alistair’s life. Routed out a slaver network and freed elven slaves.”

Christopher said nothing, but sat and stared at his clasped hands in front of him for a moment, finally he lifted his dark head, stepped from the throne he sat on, and came to stand in front of assassin, gently reaching for Cullen’s arm “Be at ease Commander.”

It took a moment for Cullen to remember that he is still held Talise’s arm, and an even longer moment for him to let go, but slowly he did, moving to stand behind her, “She does not deserve judgment.”

Josephine’s raven eyebrows nearly touched her hairline as she watched the Commander argue for the life of one of the most well-known assassins in Ferelden. It was rumored her contacts extended to Navarra, to Rivain, she had worked in Tevinter, had navigated the courts of Orlais with ease. None of that seemed to matter as Cullen looked at Christopher, the Commanders hands clenching at his sides.

“He is right you know” Christopher looked down at Talise, finding himself studying her bowed head, “Talise Montgomery, I cannot judge you. You’ve done good in your life. I know you’re hurting, and I know why you did this. But… the Inquisition needs you.”

The air was sucked from the room, and the Herald lifted his green gaze to Valissia’s, smiling at her shocked face, “You defended Valissia and fought against all that stood between you both and Skyhold, by yourself, with no warrior to defend you. We need your contacts and your talents and your strengths. I would like for you to join the Inquisition.”

Talise blinked, once, then twice, sooty lashes covering her gaze, not as she considered her options, but in pure shock. She looked at Varric beside her, and then craned her neck, looking for Valissa, who had both hands at her throat in shock. The leather leggings she wore creaked softly when she turned, looking up at Cullen, his gaze entreating her to take the offer as he stared down at her. She lost herself for a moment, staring up at Cullen’s face, it felt like he was tugging her from the shadows and towards him. Time ground to a halt as she looked up at Cullen, and she found herself agreeing to the offer, even before she looked away.

“If… if you think I’m worthy. If you think I have something to offer”, Talise turned, pulling her gaze from Cullen’s slowly, to the Herald, “Then yes. I’ll join.”

Long hours later, Cullen sat at his office desk, his face buried in his hands. The Ghost of Ferelden was a feared assassin, belonging to no guild, seeming to operate on her own terms, but sticking to a code of honor that was strict. She was unstoppable, no amount of guards or soldiers, no amount of running, hiding, magic, nothing else kept her from a target. Talise was patient, several times she had waited for years before making her move. He had read through the journal she brought, and knew many details from Leiliana; the Ghost never seduced a target, not even when in Orlais, never took a job that targeted children, she once had waited for a target’s wife to recover from an illness before taking his life. Beneath Ghost, there was Talise, a young woman hurting for her brother, the last of her family, from the reports Leiliana had written this morning, her parents had died during the Blight, and shortly after she had started training, but no one seemed to know who had trained her.

“Maker’s Breath. The Ghost of Ferelden has joined the Inquisition”, he murmured the words to himself, still shocked over the events, and tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling.

As he closed his eyes he thought of Kirkwall, and remembered the crazed times; Knight-Commander Meredith spinning out of control, driven mad by a red lyrium sword, the final battle with her, the Circle there exploding. From Varric he knew Talise had been there, passed through several times, and had stopped taking any work within the city, knowing that any more deaths would send Kirkwall into chaos. With a sigh, he pushed himself from his desk, and left his office, searching for the room Talise shared with her best friend, only to be met with a letter.

Commander Rutherford,

Apparently I’m so talented that Leiliana has put me to work already.

I have no idea when I will be back, or if I will even come back, and I wanted to speak with you before I left, but the chance never presented itself. Maker’s breath, I’m prattling on like Valissia does when she’s nervous.

Thank you. Thank you for sitting with me in the chapel, for praying when I could not. Thank you for your defense of me this morning, when I sought to be judged by the Inquisition. Thank you for believing that I am not lost. If I find redemption, it will be because you reminded me to look for it.

The dawn always comes, right?

Talise Montgomery

“I make her nervous?” He whispered the words out loud, only to feel his cheeks heat in a blush, when Valissia chuckled at his words, he had forgotten the mage was in the room.

“Yes, yes you do. That was one of the things her and I argued about this morning.” Stormy gray eyes met his gaze as he looked at Valissia over the top of the letter.

“You tried to talk her out of going to be judged then?” one gloved hand gestured down to the letter, and then gestured towards the main hall.

The mage nodded, her gray eyes serious as she looked up at Cullen, “Yes, I tried to talk her out of it. She mentioned that you had stayed with her in the chapel, that you had prayed with her.”

“I… I did. She was hurting.” Unable to take Valissia staring at him, she seemed to be seeing more than he wanted to give away, he looked back to the letter, rubbing the back of his neck with one large, powerful hand.

Valissia nodded, watching Cullen intently. Something has passed between Talise and Cullen, and her protectiveness of the assassin was clear in her gaze, “She’s still hurting. But yes, you make her nervous.”

“Why? The Herald was right, she is not a bad person.” Carefully he folded the letter, sliding it in between his greaves and the quilted shirt he wore beneath it.

“No, not that. Because you see her. Everyone else sees Ghost, an assassin working in the shadows, someone to try and use for their own ends. But you saw Talise, the pain and the anguish.” An auburn eyebrow lifted as Valissia watched the Commander tuck the letter away. He didn’t hold it in his hand like he did reports, she had already seen him deep in talks with Christopher and some others, holding a stack of papers. Instead, he was taking care with the note, revealing more with a simple gesture.

Cullen had no words, and he nodded his thanks, walking down the hallway, and back towards his office.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?” Varric speaks from behind him, and Cullen turned, frowning in confusion for a moment.

“Who?” He was not trying to be obtuse, but both women were pretty, and the events of the day had worn down on his mind.

“Well, they both are. Valissia is as fragile as a rose. And Talise”, the dwarf sighed, “She is moonlight on water.”

“She is… striking.” Blonde hair gleaming in the torchlight, Cullen nodded in agreement as they made their way across the courtyard.

“Commander, I respect you, and you know that. But do not break that girl’s heart.” Varric frowned as he spoke, remembering the morning’s events, “Whatever happened in the chapel last night obviously impacted you both, unless I miss my guess.”

The planes of Cullen’s face turned dark with a blush in the light, “I have…. I have absolutely no intention of doing that.”


	3. Chapter 3

For over three long weeks, Talise carved a bloody path through the Inquisition’s enemies. Sometimes working on her own, sometimes with a small group of scouts, sometimes even with the Herald. She stopped for only a day or so at a time, taking out her grief and despair on the enemies that surrounded them. Stolen documents, whispered conversations that she overhead, plots and plans she ran into, it all filtered back to the Nightingale, while she dispatched as many enemies of the Inquisition as fast as she could.

In the quiet of night, she found herself writing letters. One morning the sun had blazed over the mountains in the Frostbacks, the dark blue of night fading to a blaze of crimson, gold and amber, and she had described it on paper, addressed it to the Commander, and sent it to him directly before she realized what she was doing. Working in Orlais she had found a tome of chants and prayers, and the next day the dark brown leather-bound book was sitting on his desk, with a note carefully tucked between the first few pages; _For the next time the words won’t come_.

Much as he disliked gossip, Cullen found himself talking to Varric, asking questions about Talise. The first few responses the surface dwarf had walked him through; explaining that it was Talise, not Ghost, writing him, that he was seeing a side of the woman few did. After that, Cullen found himself relishing the moment in the afternoon, always in the afternoon, when he responded to whatever she had written him. He told her about the sunsets from the ramparts, near his office, about the blue morning glories that bloomed down in the garden, near where he played chess, about the stars he saw at night, when he could not sleep. Then he went to Cassandra, who offered him a piece of advice while sparring with him, “She means more than she says, trust me, I know. So now it’s your turn. Tell her what you really mean when you write to her.”

_Talise,_

_You broke my heart that first night, when you were in the chapel, crying over your brother. I have no idea what to do with a crying woman, I always seem to say the wrong thing. I hope I said the right thing, I hope it brought your comfort._

_I will say it. I’m looking forward to your return. I want to see how good you are at chess. And show you the morning glories, they grow in a shadowy spot where the sun hits them late in the morning, and I don’t always get a chance to see them, but when the sun finally breaks over the ramparts, they open to the most indescribable blue color._

_I could never place the color, until I looked at you. It’s your eyes, they are the color of your eyes._

_Will I see you when you get back?_

_Cullen_

He was standing in his office, nearly a month after Talise and Valissia had shown up at Skyhold, holding the last letter she had sent in his hand, his cheeks burning, but unable to stop himself from smiling.

_Cullen,_

_We are leaving tomorrow morning, we will probably be close to Skyhold by the time you get this._

_Thank you. For writing to me, for reminding me of all the good left in the world, all there is left to fight for, while I have been away. I want to sit in the garden with the morning glories and play chess with you now, it’s given me something to look forward to. Besides a bath, Maker’s breath, I’d sell my soul for a hot bath right now._

_Most of my life has been spent in the shadows. They make the best places to hide. But they are also cold and lonely. Every time you’ve looked at me, I’ve felt like I was standing in sunshine, warm and maybe even safe._

_Will you show me the morning glories when I get back?_

_Talise_

“You like her”, the smirk on Dorian’s face was audible in his words as the mage lounged in the doorway to Cullen’s office, leaning one muscled shoulder against the doorway.

“Like who?” A hand raked through tawny, golden tresses, the blush on his cheeks darkening in color.

“Talise. The Ghost of Ferelden walked into Skyhold and just upended your world”, the Tevinter mage continued to speak as he pushed from the doorway, and walked to stand in front of Cullen’s desk.

“Of course I like her. She’s a skilled assassin and spy, a talented rogue. She’s an asset to this cause that we badly need.” Carefully, he tucked Talise’s last letter into a small box, and sat it next to the book of prayers and chants she had sent him from Orlais.

“Gorgeous. You forgot about the gorgeous part.” A dark eyebrow lifted as Dorian watched Cullen tuck the letter he was holding in a box, but Dorian said nothing about it.

“Moonlight on water” the words were out of Cullen’s mouth before he could stop them, and he cursed as Dorian laughed.

“She has you speaking like Varric”, Dorian laughed harder, walking towards the door, “You’re that far gone. C’mon, let’s play some chess, get your mind off things.”

Cullen nodded, shoving away from his desk and following the mage down to the garden. He needed to clear his head, he needed to put the letters from Talise down, he needed fresh air. He needed to see a shadow outside coalesce into her form, but until that happened, he would settle for chess.

It had taken little more than three weeks of fighting, spying, three weeks of immersing herself into a bloody world, for the grief to fade to a dull ache. One morning, she had talked with Iron Bull, about her brother, and the path he had walked, and how she could not grieve for a man who chose his own path. She had ignored the teasing comments about Cullen, her cheeks heating in a blush that had the Qunari warrior chuckling for hours whenever he looked at her. She had emerged from the time believing in herself, in her own worth, and ready to take on the fight with the Inquisition. Already her contacts were working, actively trying to ferret out any information they could find, and get it back to her.

For now, she was sitting on a bench in the garden, her knees drawn to her chest, watching Cullen play Dorian in chess, watching the light filter through his golden hair, watching the way his brow furrowed in thought. He turned his head enough and she saw the scar that cut down to his lips, for a moment she wanted to trace the path with her own, the idea bringing a hot blush to her cheeks.

 “Your face is going to freeze like that”, the long dress Valissa wore, rustled as she walked, a whisper of silk against the stones and grass. Lifting one side of the dress, she moved to the bench, sitting down besides Talise.

Talise’s smooth features were dark with a blush, even as she was studied Cullen with all the intent of an assassin, and her bright cerulean gaze was locked onto him, “I wonder what he fights like.”

Valissia could not help the laughter that shook her thin shoulders, and she buried her face in her hands, strands of red hair escaping the braids coiled around her head, “Blessed Andraste, you’re watching that man, right now, and you’re thinking of fighting?”

“It was a compliment. His prowess is battle is well known. Rarely do I get the chance to fight openly”, Talise scowled at Valissia, moving to lean against the mage even as she glared at her, her eyes twinkling with irritation, “But no, that was not all I was thinking about.”

“Here, let me do your hair and I will tell you what I see when I see Commander Rutherford”, Valissia lifted the small pack she had, besides a spell book tucked with it, she had a comb and a several hair pins, “I was on my way to the mage tower, but I think I would rather watch you, watch him play chess.”

Without speaking, Talise moved to sit on the ground between Valissia’s feet, sighing happily as her dearest friend dug her fingers into her hair, easing the tangles from the long tresses, before starting to work on it with a long comb, “and I know you don’t like your hair up, so I won’t put it up, I promise.”

Talise leaned her head against one of Valissia’s silken covered knees, her eyes closed, and slowly she relaxed, “Tell me what you see when you look at him.”

“Oh my heart, you have it bad”, Valissia grinned, lifting the mass of Talise’s dark hair up, and started to work on a few small braids around the assassin’s delicate face, “You don’t look like a famous assassin. It always shocks me, realizing the owner of this face owns more knives than I think are in the armory.”

Cullen sat across the courtyard, embroiled in a lengthy game of chess with Dorian, but he had not made a move in several minutes, instead he watched Talise and Valissia, the mage’s fiery shocks shining brightly in the muted sunlight, as she combed through Talise’s dark, gleaming hair. His fingers clenched around the chess piece he held, earning him a sigh of irritation from Dorian, and he blinked, looking down at the chessboard, “Sorry.”

“She is extraordinarily beautiful” Dorian mused, quickly taking the piece Cullen had just put down, “They both are, actually. But you still sit on the edge of the chessboard, rather than go after the piece you want.”

“Are we going to play chess or not?” Cullen grumbled, but his gaze, warm like honey, kept going back to Talise. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes protecting her gaze, as she relaxed against Valissia’s leg. It was rare for the assassin to fully relax, and Cullen understood why; years of training, and years of experience after that, kept her on guard.

“I thought we were talking about you and Talise.” Dorian grinned at Cullen across the table, his dark eyes sparkling merrily, “You know, I thought you had taken a vow of chastity. Sworn off women completely.”

“What?? I… No.” Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck, “Some templars do. I didn’t. Maker’s breath, just go already.”

“I see golden hair, and those warm eyes you just want to sink into. And that scar on his lip, and those broad shoulders. If you stood close enough to him Talise, we wouldn’t be able to see you, look how tall he is.” Valissia continued to work, taking a small comb and working it through her friend’s hair, gently easing tangles from it.

Talise nodded, her lashes lifting at the description, her mouth dry as she followed Valissia’s description with her eyes, but she said nothing. Skillful, talented hands continue to plait her hair, working the smaller braids into the long, chocolate dark tresses, and then working all her hair into one longer braid, “Hold still, or it will be crooked.”

“He has nice hands.” The words were spoken on a soft sigh as Talise looked over at Cullen, her sharp, sky touched eyes watching his fingers as he played chess.

Valissia nodded in response, her fingers nimbly working Talise’s long hair into a single braid, compromised of many smaller ones, “Oh Talise, he has gorgeous hands. I was watching him at dinner the other day, and he has long fingers, and strong hands.”

“I noticed too” Talise grumbled, squirming as Valissia turned her head one way and then the other, “I wonder if you would see anything but him.”

“What do you mean?” the redheaded mage frowned in confusion, tilting Talise’s head backwards to look into her gaze.

 “Valissia, you’re no blushing school girl. You know when you’re with a man, and you look up at him. Cullen is tall, and his shoulders so broad, I wonder if he would hide the world while you were with him”, Talise could not help the naked sigh of want that escaped her.

Behind her, Valissia dropped a hair pin, studded with a tiny ceramic flower in deep blue, “My word Talise, you’ve grown positively poetic around the Commander. And probably so. Is that what you want then? To be engulfed by someone?”

“Yes. By him.” The words were whispered behind her fingers, as Talise peered across the courtyard at Cullen, a blush rising to her high cheeks.

Valissia slid another few flower studded hair pins into Talise’s hair, before leaning back and eyeing her work critically, a grin curving her lips, “I knew there was passion underneath that cool exterior. I am glad to see it finally emerge.”

“Tell me Cullen, have you ever been with a woman like that?” Dorian frowned in thought, moving one piece on the chessboard after careful deliberation.

Cullen was grateful for the game, to be able to focus on something other than Talise. She was distracting, every time he looked over at her she was looking at him from under a veil of lashes, and the glimpses of her bright cerulean gaze seemed to arrow into him, “There is no woman like that, besides her.”

“All the right curves in the all the right places.” Dorian grinned wolfishly at the Commander, lifting an eyebrow at him, “Have you seen her spar yet?”

“Just for a few moments.” The Commander kept his gaze focused on the chess board, meeting Dorian’s gaze and grin with a blush that darkens the tops of cheeks, and almost touches the start of the scar on the side of his face.

Still Dorian grins, his not-quite-green and not-quite-gold gaze dancing with mirth, “She’s very… flexible. A woman like that could almost curl herself around you entirely.”

A hot blush rose to Cullen’s cheeks, and the chess piece in his fingers nearly fell to the chess board. The game was forgotten as the two men sat talking, watching Valissia work Talise’s hair into something elegant, yet simple. Cullen barely moved, barely took his eyes from Talise as he spoke, “I could probably carry her in one arm.”

“Think of the possibilities then.” Dorian reacted swiftly as Cullen finally made his move, winning the chess game in one move, “And that’s the game.”

“Yes, it is.” He settled back in his chair, his gaze still locked on Talise, watching her as Valissia lifted her small chin, the long line of her throat revealed to him. His heart thudded against his ribs, his blood warming at the sight of vulnerable, smooth skin.

“Well, this game at least.” Standing up, the Tevinter mage beckoned Talise to him, “Let me see your hair love.”

As Dorian spoke, Talise tilted her head back down, her sky touched gaze collided with his honeyed one, and she had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering. Looking at him was like stepping into sunshine, like walking into a pool of golden light in the morning. She did not move until Valissia did, tipping her head back so that they looked at each other upside down.

“Go on love, go play… chess with the Commander”, Valissia grinned down at Talise, leaning to plant a tender kiss on the assassin’s forehead, “Offer a favor to him if he beats you.”

Talise unfolded her legs, long for her short height, and stood, rising to her feet with an easy, natural grace that took Cullen’s breath away, as Valissia dusted the back of her shirt and leggings off, before rising herself, taking Dorian’s offered arm.

“You have a special bond. Friends like that are rare”, there was a wistful note, for just a moment, in Dorian’s voice as he walked with Valissia, “Come, I’ll help you with your studies, I have an idea.”

Talise cast one last look over her shoulder, her gaze met with encouraging smiles from both Dorian and Valissia, before walking soundlessly to Cullen, “Care to play one more game?”

“If you would like” Cullen watched her, his eyes tracking over her cool, pale skin as she took the chair across from him, “I didn’t know you played.”

“Valissia and Jordan both did. Every time I came to Denerim, I had to play chess with him, and we always ended drinking too much while we played”, Talise grinned at the memory, watching as Cullen reset the board.

“Too much?” He set up the board, flicking his glance to Talise when she mentioned drinking.

Talise nodded, studying the board intently, “I always ended up drunk, and hungover, the next morning.”

Cullen laughed at that, leaning back in his chair and motioning for Talise to make the first move on the chess board, “The headache always lingered long into the day for me.”

“I hate the part where the world spins”, Talise blinked when Cullen took away a piece already, her eyebrows lifting, “Oh. You’re better at this than I assumed.”

“I used to play with my sister, who took delight in winning. I had to be good to finally beat her” He smiled at Talise across the table, a genuine smile, warm like the sun.

“Valissia is a master at this. I can never beat her”, she frowns in concentration, before making another move on the board.

As soon as Talise had made his move, he made his, capturing another piece, “Maybe I could teach you a few things, and you can next time you play”,

“Speaking of her, she told me something before I came over here to play”, taking a piece from Cullen’s side in a move, Talise looked up at him, twirling the piece between her fingers.

His armor clinked softly as he leaned back in his chair again, steepling his fingers together as he watched her, “And that was?”

It takes a moment for her to speak, while she gathers her nerve, and when she finally does, she keeps her thickly lashed gaze firmly on the chessboard in front of her, “She said I should offer you a favor if you win”

He paused them, looking up at her intently, his gaze focused on her until she lifted her eyes to him. When her summer bright gaze finally collided with his, he smirked, “Then I shall have to play my best.”

Talise won the game. At first, she had been teasing, willing to let Cullen win, but at a challenging look from him, she had focused on the game, moving pieces around the board, drawing him into several defensive traps, until finally, Cullen leaned back, “And I believe that is the game.”

“Does this mean I get a favor from you then?” A smile, a genuine smile curled the corners of her lips upwards, as she looked up at Cullen from under a forest of lashes, unable to meet his gaze suddenly.

“It only seems fair”, Cullen leaned back, looking around, his brow furrowing as he thought about what to get her, until his eyes landed on a far corner of the garden, “Stay here, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Talise watched as he watched away, sighing at the breadth of his shoulders. She had been right, laying beneath him he would block out the world; a shiver coasted down her spine, prickling her skin as she imagined it. He walked past a small table, picked a flower, and turned, walking back to her, his hands held behind his back.

It was the longest walk he had ever taken, holding that delicate morning glory in his hands, cupping them carefully around the flower to keep from bruising the soft, delicate petals. When he got back to the chess table, he stopped, suddenly unsure of himself, while no stranger to sex, he had never truly done anything like this, something that felt remarkably close to courting.

Curiousity gleamed in Talise’s gaze, and he could not help but grin as she looked up at him expectedly, sure of himself once more, “Forgive me for picking one.”

The almost ethereal, thin petals were cupped in one large, gloved hand, the colors a swirling mix of shades of blue, deepening to the color of the midnight sky at the edges, and for a moment Talise could not move, she just stared at it, before reaching out and taking the flower with fingers that shook just a bit, “This is probably the most beautiful flower I have ever seen.”

Relief washed over Cullen, as he realized he had made the right move, Talise’s face lit up with a genuine smile, “It will wilt though. Perhaps one of the mages knows a spell to preserve it.”

“Valissia might”, she held the flower cupped reverently in her palm, a dark forest of lashes hiding her gaze as she looked down at the fragile petals.

“Dorian will, I’m sure”, his fingers caught hers, held her hand as she held the flower, and he wished suddenly he had pulled the leather gloves he always wore off. He remembered how soft her skin was from the day she stood for judgment, suddenly he wanted to feel it against his sword calloused fingers again.

“Thank you Cullen. For everything. For helping me see the light”, she rose then, her knees wobbling a bit, but her movements still unearthly graceful.

“Thank you, for reminding me to look for it”, he whispered the words, more to top of her head, for she was standing in front of him, staring at their entwined hands.

“Cullen?” her head lifted, revealing an almost shy gaze to him as she spoke.

He sucked in a breath, lost in her eyes as soon as she looked at him, his free hand clenching with the effort it took from reaching for her, “What is it Talise?”

“We’re at war, and you’re the Commander and you’re always busy and I’m not sure what I am within the Inquisition,” she spoke the words in a rush, nerves getting the best of her, and for a moment she had to sink her teeth into her lip, before speaking slower, “But I want more. More of this.”

“More flowers?” The corner of his lips lifted in a small smile at her words, his fingers gently brushing over hers.

She nodded, smiling a little at his gentle tease, “More flowers. More chess. More time with you.”

He moved then, unable to take it anymore, his free hand curling around her small back, feeling the muscles there jump even though his glove, moving the hand that held hers around the morning glory carefully out of the way, before bringing her to him fully, “I shouldn’t ask for more, but I want to.”

In a heartbeat, Talise knew what was coming, and she leaned into him, curling her free hand, the one not holding the flower with him, around his neck, meeting his lips halfway. It was a tender kiss, almost chaste, his lips pressed gently to hers, but a warmth spread through her, pooling in her limbs, curling around the spot between her thighs, and she whimpered, tightening her grip on his neck. He felt her lean into him, felt her, even though his armor, press into his frame, and he shivered for a moment, his skin breaking out in chills, her lips parted underneath his, a shy invitation and he took it, sliding his tongue around hers for a long moment, before slowly drawing back.

It took several kisses, stolen from each other, as they started to untangle themselves, until Cullen left Talise standing in the garden, holding the striking flower in her palm, her lips swollen and her cheeks pink, a smile on her face, “Will I see you again Commander?”

“Of course. Whenever you want to see me” Was his answer, just as he stepped into a bustling hallway, and was swept away by the tide of war.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The Herald was heading to the library, carrying a stack of leather bound books, shipped in from Orlais. There were any number of people who could bring the books to the library, servants, errand boys, but instead he carried them himself, ignoring the odd stares.

Valissia was in the library, probably buried in more books. She was driving him crazy, turning red any time he looked at her, subtly flirting with him, only to back off and hide. He could not take anymore, and the books merely gave him an excuse. Quietly, he slipped into the library, catching the door with his booted foot, lest it slam shut, giving him away. At the voices coming from the seats by the window, his ears perked up, and he set the books down, before following the voices.

“He is driving me insane Talise.” Valissia sighed, tossing the quill pen she was writing with down and rubbing at her eyes in frustration.

Talise did not bother to look up from the book she was reading, a dark brow lifted in question at her friend’s words, “How?”

“He makes my skin tingle. Everything gets warm and prickly feeling when I’m around him.” Valissia’s voice was plaintive, confused, even as Talise’s merry laughter floated in the breeze.

“So act on it.” Sighing, Talise set the book to one side, marking her place in it. She sat sideways in the chair, her back against one arm, her legs dangling over the opposite one. Her position had earned her several disgruntled looks, and she had ignored them all, absorbed in the book.

“I have no idea if he feels the same way. This is probably just some one-sided crush.” Valissa shook her head, before dropping her chin onto one of her palms, her work ignored for the moment.

“He does.” Talise grinned from her spot across the table, “I’m fairly certain he is stripping you naked every time he looks at you.”

Christopher nodded in agreement, Valissia wore some of the most alluring robes and dresses, held in place by tiny silken ties, one set revealed over half of her smooth back. He had been unable to concentrate on anything but her smooth skin the day she had worn it.

“Talise!!!!!” the mage fairly shrieked in response, her cheeks glowing brightly. She took a deep breath, calming herself, and then smirked back at the assassin, “So tell me, do you get all warm and prickly when you look at Commander Rutherford?”

Talise’s bright gaze narrowed at Valissia, and she balled up a spare piece of paper, throwing it towards the mage half-heartedly, “I’m not answering that.”

“So that’s a yes?” Valissia smirked at her, gesturing across the table, “Your cheeks are turning pink.”

“That’s a… that is none of your business.” Talise paused, crumbling another piece of paper and tossing it aimlessly off the desk, “He told me I could see him any time I wanted to.”

“How exactly is that a problem?” Valissia leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand, her storm cloud gaze locked onto Talise.

“I want to see him all the time. I know I must go out and work, I know there are jobs that need doing. I know I should be giving everything to the Inquisition.” Talise turned in the chair, slouching and stretching her booted feet out, a frown marring her features.

Nodding in agreement, Valissia set about organizing her notes, stacking several pages together carefully, “And you do.”

“But I don’t want to. I want to sit in his office and read books.” Try as she might, Talise cannot keep the plaintive, almost pouting tone from her voice, and she sighs, stretching further in the chair until she can prop her head on the back of it, her gaze searching the ceiling.

“And see the man naked.” Valissia smirked at Talise over the table,

Talise does not move, does not flinch at her friend’s words, but her cheeks darken further, “I never said anything about seeing him naked.”

Christopher grinned at Talise’s words, making a mental note to push Cullen further towards her later on, and leaned further around the bookcase. Talise’s head tilted slightly for a moment, proof she had heard him, or felt his presence, she was uncanny in her ability to sense someone sneaking up on her, but Valissia had missed the movement, as she stared down at her notes.

“I can’t concentrate Talise. I want more. I’ve been locked up in towers and libraries with books and tomes and dust and too much parchment, covered in ink. I miss Jordan, I always will. But I feel….” Valissia lifted her hands, waving them in the air as she spoke.

The Herald sucked in a breath, listening to the mage speak, his fingers curling tightly over the shelf he leaned around.

“You feel?” Talise sat up in her chair, leaning forward and propping her arms on the table, her eyes focused and intent on Valissa, watching her face as she spoke.

The mage sighed, picking at a small tear in one of the pages of her notes, her fingers worrying the tear until it started to lengthen across the corner of the page, “Like my life is wasting away. Finding better ways to heal people would bring so much good to the world. But if this is all I do, I can’t help but think my life would be empty. Somehow.”

“Why do you think I asked the Inquisitor to judge me? I have known nothing but death and destruction for years.” Talise’s dark hair shifts about her face as she nods in agreement, meeting Valissia’s gaze with a compassionate look in her own eyes.

Valissia heaves a sigh, continuing to worry at the tear in the parchment in front of her, “I’m so sorry, prattling on about my own--”

“Shut up Valissia. You are allowed to talk about your troubles.” She paused for a moment, flicking her blue gaze towards Christopher’s hiding spot. Talise knew he was there, and continued to speak anyways, “So you think Christopher would change things?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. But I want to find out.” Valissia sighed, putting the last of her notes into a tome, tucking them carefully in the back of the book.

Talise added the book she had been reading to the pile sitting on the desk in between the two friends, her fingers tracing designs over the cover for a moment, as if she was considering something, “So find out.”

“When?? How?” Valissia blinked stormy eyes across the table at her in obvious confusion.

“Now. When he walks over here.” Decision made, Talise slides from her spot, her movements as smooth as silk, nodding to Christopher when he emerged from his hiding spot behind the bookshelf. Valissia sucked in a surprised breath, turning pink as she remembered their conversation, her blush darkening to red when she saw him staring at her. Talise was right, he wanted what she did, she saw it in his eyes, burning with need for her.

“I will take my leave. Christopher, I will have no problem killing the Herald of Andraste, should Valissia come to harm. That’s my only warning” with a whisper of leather, and the barest hint of footsteps, Talise was gone.

Valissia could do nothing, she was rooted in her chair, her face half buried in her hands, staring up at Christopher from between the tips of her fingers. Her heart was hammering in her ears, making her light-headed, her skin prickled, he came to a stop beside the desk Valissia was sitting at, arms crossed over chest, muscles bulging beneath his shirt

“What exactly did Jordan mean to you?” he slowly leaned down, one hand propped on the desk, the other on an arm of the chair she sat in, until he was eye to eye with her.

“He…” she stammered for a moment, unsure of Christopher’s questioning, “He was my friend. We grew up together.”

“Nothing more?” his gaze was intense as he studied her, the line of his jaw clenching when he caught scent of her perfume.

“Nothing more??” she frowned, her auburn brows coming together briefly, before she blinked up at him, realization dawning across her features, “You’re jealous!!”

He nods tightly, leaning down, his fingers curling around the arm of her chair, “I do not wish to be a stand in for a man you cannot have.”

“Jordan was a dear friend, someone I trusted and respected. But no, I did not love him. Not like that.” Her fingers tuck strands of bright auburn hair back behind a shell-like ear, suddenly self-conscious that she had not pulled her hair up this morning, but had instead come straight to the library to study.

The words were scarcely past her lips before his were on them, his hands curling around her upper arms and hauling her from her chair. She let out a squeak of surprise, stiffening in his arms for a moment, and then the warmth spread through her, melting her against him. Christopher leaned back against the table as she relaxed, tugging her with him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking over the seam of her lips, groaning as hers parted.

Her hands were restless, shifting from gripping the front of his shirt to curling around his shoulders, only to slide back down his chest. She was suddenly greedy feeling, like she had been drowing and could breathe again, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it as she pulled. He was so strong, and she was so slight, the movement just brought her to him, and his hands gripped her waist, holding her still, as with a groan he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers for a moment as he gulped in a breath.

“Maker… Valissia, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She dropped her head, hiding her burning cheeks, her entire face in a waterfall of red locks, her forehead nearly brushing his chest, “I imagine the same thing you’re doing to me. I can feel my heatbeat in my toes.”

He chuckled at her words, tugging her closer for a moment, his fingers sliding to her smooth jaw, and tilting it upwards towards him. She was blushing a deep rose, her skin warm against his fingers, the color bringing out the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones, “You are so beautiful.”

Just as she would lean up, to press her lips to his once more, the doors to the library swung open with a loud thump, and a young soldier stepped in, “Herald? There is news from…”

He paused, turning as bright red as Valissia was as he rounded a bookshelf, and found the Herald, with the mage in his arms, “My apologies. I can wait, I’ll leave the report with Cullen and…”

“No, I’ll see to it now”, Christopher sighed, turning and leaving Valissia against the table, one hand trailing through her hair, “This is not over. I’ll be back later.”


	5. Chapter 5

Talise, followed by Valissia, burst out of the Herald’s Rest, flinging the door open with a thwack against the side of the building, the sound of wood meeting stone echoing across the courtyard. Both women ran across the courtyard, ducking in and out of soldiers, merchants, servants, any and all who stood between them and the main gates of Skyhold.

Valissia stopped first, just a step ahead of Talise, skidding in the mud, the hem of her gown soaking up the dirty quickly, but she paid it no mind, her hands pressed to her chest and her storm gray eyes wide. Talise stopped as well, grabbing ahold of the fiery-haired mage’s shoulders, her cerulean gaze equally wide.

In front of them, standing confidently in the sunshine, was a woman. Long hair, as long as both of theirs, hung down to her waist in a spill of golden curls, bright emeraldine eyes shone with humor and mischief, surrounded by thick lashes, and her sun-kissed skin fairly glowed as her full lips curled up in a wide smile. A long leather vest brushed the tops of her booted feet, underneath she wore a shirt untied, revealing golden tinted skin, and a pair of leather breeches that clung to her thighs. An instant later, the three of them were wrapped in each other’s arms, shouting and laughing and nearly bouncing up and down, almost falling over in the slick mud they stood in.

Down the steps of the keep Cullen walked, at his side the former chevalier, Michel de Chavin, and behind them Varric, the three of them talking about events at Recliffe, and the impact siding with the mages would have. They came to a stop at the sight before them, the women giggling and talking amongst themselves.

“Varric, I assume, since you know Talise and Valissia, you know who that is as well?” Cullen turns to the rogue, an eyebrow lifting at the scene before him.

Varric grins broadly, nodding his head up and down, “Oh yes. This story just got a little more interesting.”

“Who is she?” Michel’s accented words echoed Cullen’s confusion, but his gaze never left the women before him.

Varric slipped between the two warriors, watching as the women clung to each other, even through their laughter, “That is Amelia Bennet. The Daughters of the Storm have reunited.”

“Daughters of the Storm?” Cullen and Michal spoke at the same time, their puzzled gazes meeting and then turning to Varric.

“You know Talise is the daughter of Hale Montgomery. His mercenary band was called the Storm Raiders”, Varric smiled as the women parted, and then clung to each other once more, “Valissia is the daughter of their healer. And Amelia is the daughter of Hale’s lieutenant. The girls grew up together, and by the time I met them, they were calling themselves that.”

“And they are all beautiful.” Michel cannot help the sigh that escapes him, but he turns to Cullen, bowing slightly, “My apologies Commander.”

“If I spent every waking moment of the day angry at men who found Talise beautiful, I would be angry all day long”, Cullen nods back at Michel, waving away any insult.

“What is she like, Varric?” The Orlesian chevalier turned back to Varric, although his steely blue gaze was focused on the blonde in front of him, watching as she clung to the other woman with her.

“If Talise is quiet, calm, watching from the shadows, and Valissia is intense and focused upon her work… then Amelia is the wild one. Impetuous, bold, you could say a little rash”, Varric stepped in between the two warriors, walking down the stairs, “And if you will excuse me, I’m going to say hello.”

“Varric!!” Amelia was nearly bouncing up and down as she saw the dwarf, running to him, her boots making splashes in the mud as she did, until she nearly bowled him over. He leaned into her hug, squeezing her until she squeaked. When he leaned back, she looked over his head and her bright spring gaze widened as she saw Cullen and Michel, “Did the Inquisition invite the most attractive men in all of Thedas here??”

Varric laughs, waving up at Cullen and Michael, “The one with the fur is Cullen.”

“Ahhhh.. Talise’s Cullen.” Amelia nods with a knowing look at the tall, armor-clad commander, “I see the attraction.”

Varric snorted at her words, nodding in agreement, “Yes, although she will insist he isn’t her anything.”

“And the one on the right?” she leaned back enough to look down at Varric, lifting an eyebrow at him, curiousity and a sudden rush of attraction gleaming in her eyes.

“Michel de Chevin.”

“Oh Maker. He’s Orlesian?” Amelia sighed,

“He is. A former chevalier. There was some… trouble in Orlais.” Varric nodded, taking the storm mage in. Her hair was longer, hanging well past the middle of her back, her skin was sun-kissed, but the sparkle in her eyes, the longing for life itself, was still there.

That sparkling gaze had not moved from Michel, she stared at him openly, not hiding behind the fan of her lashes, like so many women would have done, “Isn’t there always. And am I to understand that the Herald of Andraste has been charmed by Valissia?”

“Yes, that is moving slightly faster than Talise and Cullen.” The golden-haired dwarf nods with a grin, winking at Valissia as he speaks.

“Well of course. Talise is reckless with her work, but never with her heart.” With a snort, Amelia nods, finally taking her eyes off Michel and looking back towards Talise, who has turned bright pink at Amelia’s words.

“More accurate words have never been stated, my dear.”

Christopher stepped from the main doors of the keep, assuring Josephine that he would speak to the ambassadors from Orlais in the afternoon, as soon as he talked to Cullen about the soldiers. He frowned as he saw Cullen, along with Michel, standing on the steps, their backs to him. He walked down the steps to them, joining the two warriors, a brow arching at the scene before him.

Valissia was mud-spattered. His impeccably dressed, fiery mage, was splattered with mud. Talise had come out of the shadows, and was grinning, and Varric had his arm wrapped around the waist of a blonde. She was the tallest of the three, but not much more than half a head taller than Talise. And judging from how Valissia had her head propped on the blonde’s shoulder, they knew each other.

“Who is that?” His eyes were wide with wonder, somehow the woman standing with Talise and Valissia had brought out a side to both of them he had never seen.

“Apparently the three most beautiful women in Thedas all know each other” Michel replied, his eyes ever never leaving the Amelia, she seemed to almost sparkle in the sunshine, “That is one of their friends. Amelia.”

“That is Amelia? Valissia has mentioned writing a friend from home, but I expected”, Christopher lifted one shoulder in a shrug, looking over at Cullen, “I don’t know… taller.”

Cullen nodded, when he had spoken to Talise of her family and friends, she had mentioned Amelia, “Talise speaks of her as a force of nature.”

“So that means she must be tall? Michel frowned in confusion, gesturing down to the women, “Talise is tiny, everyone is tall to her.”

Cullen and Christopher laughed in agreement. Varric pulled away from the girls, turning towards the men on the stairs to the keep in a sweeping gesture, “Shall we introduce Amelia?”

“Oh yes please. I want to meet this chevalier. I hear the Orlesians do this wicked thing with their tongue”, Amelia grinned, linking her arms with Valissia, and then Talise, giggling as both of the women blushed red. They walked up the gray stone steps, neatly repaired, until they stood in a wide circle of stone, more stairs going up to the main doors of the keep.

“Gentlemen, may I present, Amelia Bennett. The trifecta is completed”, Varric chuckled, as he walked up the steps, stopping in front of the three men, his gaze on Michel. The Orlesian chevalier was staring at Amelia as she came up the steps, his cool, almost icy blue gaze wide, “Amelia, this is Christopher Trevelyan, Herald and Inquisitor, Cullen Rutherford, our Commander, and this is Michel de Chavin,”

Talise and Valissia both hung back slightly, and Amelia tugged them forward as she came up the steps, grinning wickedly at her friends. Once in front of the group of men on the steps, she bowed slightly, “It is an honor Your Worship. Commander Rutherford, Talise has spoken highly of you in her letters. And Michel, your prowess in battle is legendary.”

Talise visibly relaxed, her fear of being embarrassed gone, and Valissia sighed in relief as Amelia made a nearly perfect introduction. Michel moved first, holding out his hand, and Amelia let go of Valissia, expecting to shake his hand; instead he turned her hand, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Amelia blinked several times in rapid succession, her cheekbones darkening in a blush as she looked at the chevalier.

“It is an honor Amelia. You’ve brought a sudden sparkle to the Inquisition”, he smiled at her, over the back of her hand, into her wide, green eyes, his Orleasian accent thickening his words.

“Th—Thank you.” Uncharacteristically at a loss for words, she merely stared up at Michel, until Valissia, still standing beside her, elbowed her in the ribs. Still casting glances at Michel, she shook hands with Cullen, and had her knuckles kissed by Christopher. The group talked for a few moments, before the three warriors were pulled away by various tasks. Talise cast a longing look at Cullen’s broad shoulders and back as he retreated to his quarters above the portcullis; Valissia hung onto Christopher’s fingers for as long as she could, and Amelia watched Michel retreat to the training yards, a smirk lifting the corners of her lips.

Later, the Daughters of the Storm stood in the nearly rebuilt war room. A few windows needed to be repaired, but the table had been installed, maps spread out over it. Markers were spread out over it, a few daggers were thrust into it in places. Amelia stood over the table, looking down at the map, idly spinning a marker in her nimble fingers as her emeraldine gaze studied the markers.

“So, this Corypheus, we know next to nothing about him.” She began, lifting her gaze to Talise for a moment, “Nothing from your contacts?”

Talise shook her head no, her eyes locked onto Kirkwall on the map, “Nothing. He seems to have crawled up out of the ground overnight. What about you?”

“Nothing. I heard nothing until word reached us the explosion at the Conclave and the loss of Haven. Which that got to me simultaneously.” Amelia set the marker down, and then picked it back up, twirling it between her fingers as an outlet for her energy.

“What are we going to do?” Valissia’s voice broke, tears welling in her storm gray eyes.

“Shhh.. it’s going to be alright”, Talise curled an arm around her, pulling the redhead to one shoulder.

“We’re not going to cry. Listen, when this is over and this demon thing is cold and dead, and whatever else is going on is done, we will sit down and cry. We’ll cry for hours. But right now… right now…” Amelia took a deep trembling breath, her fear getting the best of her for a moment, “Right now, we’re going to figure this out.”

“We need to plan”, Talise spoke the words quietly, motioning to the maps, “Leiliana, the spymaster, has my contacts and agents, she can use them to gain whatever knowledge they have.”

“There is a Tevinter here, he practices magic that I’m not… used to” Valissia wiped the tears from her eyes, making a valiant effort to straight her shoulders, “But I know you’ve been all over the world, and you’re not a healer. I think the two of you could come up with a plan. There’s also an elf mage and the leader of Val Royeaux’s circle is here as well.”

“I think I’ll take my chances with either the Tevinter or the elf. It’s been too long since I played the game, and I was always bad at it.” Amelia’s nose wrinkles at the mention of Val Royeaux.

The other two laugh at her words, nodding in agreement.

“Not to change the subject, but we need to talk Talise”, Amelia set the marker she was holding down firmly on the table, “What is this nonsense about you presenting yourself for Judgment to the Herald?”

In all the time she had been here, no one had openly spoken about the events that took place the morning Talise joined the Inquisition. Her grief over her brother’s death had left a scar on her, darkening her eyes with pain, and no one seemed to want to make it worse. Amelia’s question brought all her emotions to the surface, and Talise shifted, unable to look at the storm mage.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life Amelia.” The words were spoken to the map on the table, Talise’s gaze veiled through her lashes.

“HmmMmm. Many of us have.” Amelia nodded, leaning against the war table and folding her arms over her chest, her concerned gaze focused on Talise.

“And… and… Jordan’s death was my fault.” Her summer bright gaze dropped to the war table, and trembling fingers reached out, touching the dagger stuck through the Haven on the map.

“How exactly? Did you blow up the Conclave and not tell anyone?” as she spoke, Amelia lifted her gaze to Valissia, arching an eyebrow at the spirit mage.

The answer was small, quietly whispered, and the assassin did not move as she spoke the words to the war table, “No.”

“Did you set this darkspawn loose in the world?”

“No”.

“Then how exactly is his death any of your fault?”

“He paid the price for all of what I’ve done.”

“No. Oh no Talise, you stop believing that bullshit right this instant.” Amelia flicks her gaze, dark with anger, to Valissia, “And have you talked to her about this?”

“She didn’t want to talk about it.” Valissia shrugged, suddenly unable to meet Amelia’s gaze. The note of anger creeping into the storm mage’s voice was also shining in her eyes.

“She never wants to talk about anything. Talise is a walking, talking, breathing secret. You have to force information out of her.” She had to grit her teeth, grinding them together until her jaw ached, to keep from yelling suddenly. Anger at herself, at her friends, at the entire world, rose, threatening to swamp her emotions.

“He left the royal guard because he could not take lying to Alistair anymore. After I left the proof of the rebellion among the nobles with Alistair…” still Talise stared at the map, her gaze locked onto Haven. Where her world had exploded.

“You did a good thing. You saw to it that the one man who needed the information got it. How is that a bad thing?” Amelia reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose with her fingers, thick lashes obscuring her gaze, while she kept her breathing slow and measured.

The answer hung in the air for moments, Talise’s emotions slowly being tugged out of the shadows. She blinked back a rush of tears, keeping them out of her shining cerulean gaze, but just barely, “Because he didn’t tell Alistair who I was.”

“Did Alistair ever come out and ask Jordan if he knew you were the Ghost of Ferelden?”, Amelia frowned, trying to keep her anger at bay, while at the same time trying to understand Talise’s feelings.

“No”.

“Then Jordan wasn’t lying. And if it was his guilt at this supposed lie to Alistair that drove him to Haven, that was his burden to bear. Not yours.”

“I…”

“Unless you’re going to say ‘I was wrong, you are right’ do not say anything.”

“I know you’re right. But…”

Amelia stalks back to Talise, gripping her by the shoulders and leaning down until she is nose to nose with the shorter woman, “Listen to me. You can grieve for your brother. I grieve for your brother. But do not take his burdens on. You were born to be who you are, right this instant. And that includes a famous assassin. If you weren’t good at it, you’d be dead.”

“That is a very strange thing to say.” Talise meets her gaze, blue and green colliding in a clash of color and emotions, her voice stronger now, although it wobbles still a bit.

“It’s the truth though. Your skills have kept you alive. Helped you become who you are, and you are going to help topple a darkpawn the likes of which we have never seen.” Her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come, Amelia pulled Talise to her, curling her arms around Talise’s thin back.

“You believe that?” the words were muffled against Amelia’s shoulder, as Talise buried her face, sniffling back tears.

Amelia sighed, gritting her teeth in frustration, her emeraldine eyes dark with anger, “We don’t have time for your crisis. We don’t have time for Valissia to be worrying about her hair or how muddy her clothes are going to get either. We need to get a plan together. A solid plan of how we are, separately and together, going to help the Inquisition. Because if we don’t, the whole world will fall.”

“You’re right” Valissia sighs, leaning against Talise’s back.

 “So start with this… our skills, our contacts, our knowledge, everything we have we have to give to the Inquisition. It is going to take everything to defeat this monster”, Amelia squared her shoulders, before moving to the doors of the war room, and tugging them open with enough force for one to crash into the wall, “But we’re going to save this world. Or die trying.”


	6. Chapter 6

Several mornings after Amelia’s tumultuous arrival, Talise wandered through the hallways of the keep, staying away from the bedrooms and barracks, but making her way through common areas, she was standing in the kitchen, stuffing a pastry into her mouth when Leiliana stepped behind her. No one had been able to sneak up on the assassin, but now Leiliana watched as Talise froze, half the pastry in her hand, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Across the courtyard, Cullen was practicing with some soldiers, leading them through a series of exercises, wooden practice swords clanking against each other as the soldiers sparred. The Commander moved between them, adjusting the grip one soldier had, the angle another blocked, until the moves were precise. As Leiliana watched, Talise swallowed, her eyes wide as she looked at Cullen, a blush starting to form on the tops of her cheeks; but the Nightingale noticed something else, Talise had given no notice she had heard footsteps behind her. There was no telltale twitch of her head in the direction of the sound, she did not look behind her, did not shift her weight in anticipation. Other than swallowing what looked to be a huge bite out of the pastry, Talise had not moved.

Leiliani knew two things in that moment, Talise loved sweets, and something was stirring between her and Cullen. A smile lifted the spymaster’s lips, and she deliberately brushed against a bowl, making it clatter on the table, announcing her presence. Talise’s shoulder jerked, before she turned, masking her surprise, but not the blush that now bloomed across her cheeks, “It’s been a long time since I was caught unawares.”

“I’m not sure if it was the pastry that had your attention,” Leiliana leaned against the counter Talise was at, grinning in triumph, “Or something else. Is the practice in the courtyard really that interesting?”

Sooty lashes covered Talise’s gaze for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes at Leiliana, “Either you’re deliberately being dumb, or you are blind.”

“Blind?”

“How have you missed that?” The hand still holding the rest of the pastry lifted, pointing out the window towards Cullen.

“The Commander? I speak with him every day. I work with him. He is an admirable man”, Leiliana kept her expression surprised, although she had to bite her lip to keep from grinning.

“And he doesn’t sleep well. He is tired and overworked and…” the words burst out from Talise, surprising her. For years she had rarely talked to anyone except her brother or Valissia, and now she couldn’t seem to shut up.

“And?” Leiliana prompted, leaning against the doorway, gloved arms folded over her chest.

“And?” Talise walked out of the kitchen, coming to a stop in the sunlight, staring again, “No one seems to want to ease his burden.”

“You want to?” although she spoke the question almost off-handedly, the spymaster was watching Talise, her icy blue gaze noticing the way Talise kept looking towards Cullen.

“Me? What? How would I?” from behind a curtain of dark, shining hair, Talise looked over at Leiliana, using her hair to try and mask the emotions on her face. She was letting her heart get ahead of her, and her burgeoning feelings for Cullen were also unsettled. Coupled with Leiliana’s accurate assumptions about her feelings, Talise was left feeling rather exposed.

“If I may make a suggestion. Be who you were less”, Leiliana paused, letting the implication of her words sink in, be Ghost less, “And be who you are now more. I know you read well, that you’ve been helping Valissia with her research. I know you have yet to lose a game of chess to anyone, although I think Cullen lets you win. I know that you like sweets. Be that person.”

Understanding gleaming in her bright gaze, shoving her dark hair back away from her face, Talise turned to Leiliana,  “You spymaster, are an incurable romantic.”

Leiliana nodded, grinning, “And I love shoes. But I have come to talk to you about something besides shoes. And Cullen.”

“What is it?” Talise looked away from Cullen, glad for the distraction, the more she looked at him, the more her heart hammered in her chest.

“I was wondering if you would talk to my scouts. I know I told you to be Ghost less, and I mean that with Cullen”, Leiliana gestured towards the courtyard, where the Commander was dismissing the soldiers from practice, “But your skills are legendary. I was wondering if you would teach them?”

“I can’t… I mean, I didn’t think of taking an apprentice.”, the words are mumbled around another mouthful of pastry, and she shakes her head no at the words, shock evident in her gaze.

Leiliana could not help but grin at Talise’s pastry-stuffed, wide-eyed refusal. She was struck again that Talise, as she was, did not come across as Ghost. She had been much the same, before life had changed, “Oh no no. Not that. They are all talented and skilled. But yours surpass any I’ve seen, and you could probably teach them more. It would free me to help the Herald.”

Talise regarded Leiliana thoughtfully, mulling the idea over in her head, before nodding, “Like Cullen does. Just polish their skills a bit, in a large class, rather than individual training?”

Leiliana nodded, “We would have to come up with a cover story. I trust my scouts to keep your identity secret, but the gossip spreads in this place like wild fire.”

“Let’s be honest, the rumors have already started. It will not be long until Talise Montgomery and the Ghost of Ferelden are linked,” Talise took another bite of pastry, sighing as she did, “These are delicious. I want to eat a basket full.”

“Are you alright with that? You’ve carefully hidden your identity for years, no one seemed to be able to track you down.” Leiliana nodded in agreement, taking a pastry for herself, “It always makes my day when the cooks make these.”

“Yes. And no. I’m tired of being Ghost. I’m tired of being…” Talise paused, her eyes softening for a moment as she watched Cullen again, “Alone. But bringing together the two parts of my life is disconcerting.”

“I understand. If you want to make a cover story, come up with something. Rumors are just that, rumors, and people can speculate all they want about who Ghost is,” Leiliana turns, making her way out of the kitchen as servants started to come in, “And remember, just be yourself. With him I mean.”

With muttered curses and flushed cheeks, Talise walked into the shadows, heading up the ramparts, and then atop one of the towers, sitting on the stone and letting her legs tangle over the side. Up this high, with views of bright snow and mountains, her head started to clear. She had lived in shadows and secrecy all of her life, more Ghost than Talise; she could count on one hand the number of people that knew her, even fewer than knew who she was.

A little over a month ago, in the court of the Inquisition, she had openly confessed to being the Ghost of Ferelden; Cullen had yelled at Varric, had watched her with those warm, honey and whiskey eyes. At first, he had not believed her, and then, when she expected judgment, he had defended her. She was here because she forgot how to think when she looked into his warm gaze, any reasonable, rational thought escaped her when she looked at him.

The two sides of her life had come together, colliding in an explosion inside of Skyhold, for a moment she was dizzy with nerves, and she leaned against one of the merlons atop the wall, closing her eyes. Soon she would lose the ability to hide, as news of her arrival would spread with the gossip in Skyhold, and she would no longer be a face in the crowd. Several breaths later, she eased back from the edge of the wall, making her way down through a hole in the tower ceiling, and then slipping out through a door.

Finally done for the day, Cullen walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing against the stone floor. He could not take his office any longer, could not be in that room, cooped up, for another moment. Despite their wins, despite the faint hint of hope in this war, he was perpetually busy.

He saw little more than glimpses of Talise, a flash of her eyes here, the sight of her back retreating there. Rarely had they been in the same room together, and the brief hints of her presence had gotten under his skin. It was infuriating really, to almost ache for a glimpse of her like some school boy with a crush.

As he rounded a corner, he thought about all he had learned about the enigmatic woman. She was skilled in subterfuge, adept at poisons, well-trained in combat, if the practice sessions she had sparred with Leiliana’s scouts was any indication. From her time in the library, he knew she could read and write in at least 2 languages, and knew a smattering of elvish, enough to interact with the elves here in Skyhold in their native language. He could not stop the smile that crossed her face as he thought of her, remembering just a few days past, when he had found her in the kitchen, her cheeks puffed out from the cookies she had been eating. On top of everything else, Talise loved sweets.

It was incongruous really, watching a woman feared around the world as an assassin, sit with a mug of milk and a pile of cookies, dunking them like a child. He had the feeling that Talise was emerging from a carefully built shell; and for a moment his heart hurt for the woman she should have been. A carefree woman, who could read and eat cookies whenever she wanted, where ever she wanted.

He came to a stop outside one of the common rooms, where Christopher leaned against the wall across from the doorway, holding a small box and a book. The Herald looked up, and smiled, gesturing with the box towards the room, “Come for a lesson?”

“Lesson?”

“Leiliana has asked Talise to teach her scouts. She has been training with them, but also teaching them. It’s interesting, to see things from the perspective of someone like her.”

“There isn’t anyone like her.” Cullen spoke the words before he could stop himself, raking a hand through his hair when he realized what his words had revealed.

“True. But there isn’t anyone like Valissia either. Or Leiliana. Or Cassandra. Or you. We are all each unique, pieces in a puzzle.”

“That is surprisingly deep.”

“Here, when she finishes up, give her the box.” Christopher dodged the comment, and pointed towards Talise, “She has a thing for sweets, and I found these in a shipment. Orlesian chocolate.”

“And the book?”

“That’s personal” Christopher grinned, following Valissia as she slipped out of the room. The mage had attended every lesson Talise had taught, and several of the sparring sessions. Out of loyalty to her friend, but also keen to learn, she knew better how to construct wards, how to spot a spy, when Talise explained her own methods.

Cullen found himself standing in the hallway, holding a box of chocolate, as Talise sat on the table in the middle of the room, looking at her notes. She never stood at a lecturn, preferring to sit in a circle and talk to those who were listening, however she sat on a table, or a tall bar stool, so she could see everyone. The shirt she wore was distracting, thin silk, with a large keyhole cut into the back, revealing smooth skin, the front had a smaller keyhole, just flirting with her cleavage, the soft skin that made Cullen’s mouth water as he stared at it.

A scout spoke from one side of the room, slouching comfortably in a chair, “How do you know who the real threat is?”

“You mean who the good ones are and who is just bragging?” Talise looked over at him, her brow lifting in question

“That too.”

“The good ones don’t talk. You don’t hear Leiliana boasting of her work do you?” as several people in the room nodded in agreement, Talise pressed on, her booted feet swinging off the side of the table as she spoke, “We don’t brag. You don’t become one of us for the glory. If someone is bragging about their accomplishments, or all their contacts, or about all the jobs they’ve worked, you can expect one of two things. They’re lying; or they’re talking to catch your attention, and when you’re distracted, someone else will make their move.”

Several of Leiliana’s scouts nodded in vigorous agreement, and Talise took a moment to talk about how to blend in better, explaining how to create distractions, how to use crowds to blend in, when the best time of day to execute a mission was. Cullen was a little shocked to find out that Talise did not work in the dead of night, but rather just before sunrise, when the night guards were tired, and their replacements not on shift yet; and the shadows still deep enough to hide in. As scouts trickled out of the room, he nodded to them, but stayed where he was, booted feet crossed at the ankle, leaning against the wall.

Talise looked up her from her notes, her bright, swirling gaze catching Cullen’s, and instantly her cheeks pinkened. She slid off the table, the leather pants she wore creaking slightly, the matching boots, in black, thudding softly on the carpet as she landed, “Commander. I didn’t expect such an impressive audience this evening.”

He was blushing, stammering for a moment, his fingers clutching the box before he recovered, “I am sorry to say I missed your lesson.”

“It wasn’t too indepth today. Just talking about how to better hide in plain sight. Not wearing perfume, skipping flashy clothes, basic stuff”, she crossed the room, and then stepped into the hallway, stopping in front of him.

“Yet… You’re wearing perfume” Cullen took a deep breath, catching a teasing hint of some light, floral, as she stood before him.

“We might make a rogue out of you yet” she grinned up at him, through her blush, “But I meant more when you are working. What you do on your time off is yours.”

One gloved hand lifted from the box he was wearing, and gestured to the more relaxed clothes she wore, “I see. So you wear perfume and silk shirts when you’re not working?”

“And read. And eat too many sweets.” Summer bright gaze sparkling with humor, Talise nodded up at him, agreeing with his words.

She had provided him with an opening, he realized, and he held the box out, “Here, Orlesian chocolate, it came in on the last shipment.”

“Chocolate?” Talise perked, looking down at the box, reaching for the top of the box even as Cullen held it.

“MmmHmmm.” He nodded, letting the assassin flip the top of the box open, grinning when she sighed at the sight of the chocolate, nestled in pieces of thin wax paper.

Talise had a piece of it in her mouth before Cullen could react, and she heaved a sigh, letting the smooth candy melt on her tongue, her eyes closing in pleasure.

At the sound, Cullen sucked in a breath, but he nearly lost his grip on the box at the look on face, eyes closed, pleasure relaxing her finely boned features. She was gorgeous, and that face looked more like a woman in an intimate embrace, than a woman eating chocolate. He must has groaned, must had stammered out a response, because her eyes flicked open and she looked up at him, swallowing the bite of candy.

“That is the best chocolate in the world.” She reached gently into the box, and picked up a piece, holding it out for him. “Here.”

He had no idea what possessed him, but suddenly he found himself tugging a glove off with his teeth, before taking the offered candy from her. She was right, it was good chocolate, melting slowly, smoothly, and he sighed.

Talise stared up at him, watching him relax, for just a moment, and she was tempted to feed him more, to insist he stand in the hallway and eat the entire box. Or maybe drag him to the quiet of the library, where he could rest. But suddenly she was inspired, and she took the box from him, “I’m going to go up to the ramparts and eat chocolate. The views are incredible there.”

Cullen blinked, staring in her eyes had muddled his head and he couldn’t think for a moment, “You are?”

“Yep” Talise turned, walking down the hallway, her hips gently swaying back and forth, “You coming, or do you have important work to do?”

“I…” He was torn. There was a stack of paperwork to be seen to in his office, reports that he had to read, commands to be issued. But he found himself following her, “No. Nothing that can not wait.”

As Cullen turned the corner and walked up towards the ramparts, Leiliana slid around the corner, stepping out of a shadow, and grinned to herself. Slowly but surely Cullen and Talise were coming together

 

Half of the chocolate was gone. The box was sitting on the stone wall of the rampart, and Talise leaned beside it, her eyes taking in the view. The sun was almost gone, the valley below dark, but the sky overhead was streaked with red and orange, the colors slowly giving way to a deep velvety blue sky. It was her favorite time of day.

“Cullen”, She turned to him as she spoke, and suddenly all the words stopped in her throat. He was staring at her, less than an arm’s length from her. They had been talking companionably, revealing bits and pieces of themselves, carefully stepping around the burning tension between them.

But it had grown until the air was thick with it. One of her slender hands reached for his, and as soon as her fingers brushed his, he moved. She moved at the same time, turning to him, stepping toward him, as he pulled her to him, and her breath whooshed out of her lungs, her lips parting in surprise. She didn’t get a word out, he slid one hand into her hair, the other around her waist, and his lips were on hers.

It was like getting struck by lightning. Amelia had shocked her with a spell once, that was what it felt like. Her skin was tingling, her hands lifting to curl around his neck, tugging him to her, even as her lips parted beneath his. She couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get more, and she whimpered, tightening her hold on his neck, which lifted her to toes.

Cullen groaned, turning her until she was pressed to the wall of the rampart, lifting her slightly and pinning her there with his weight. His hand moved from her hair to gently cradle her face, his lips pressing to hers again and again, until hers parted, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers. He groaned again, breaking the kiss and heaving a breath into his lungs.

“Stop me. You have to stop me”, he whispered the words into Talise’s hair, shivering in her arms, his hips pressing against hers.

It took her several moments, several deep breaths, to understand what he was saying, “Stop you? Why?”

“Because I want too much. I want too much from you, I want you too much”, he ground out the words, his hands sliding to her hair and tightening in it for a moment.

“Is that a bad thing?” Her fingers brushed against the front of his surcoat, curling into the fur that trimmed the top of it.

Once more he pressed his lips to hers, rubbing his tongue against hers in a provocative motion until he broke the kiss to heave a breath into his lungs, “I will end up taking you here and now. You have to stop me.”

His words sent a jolt through Talise’s body, and she shook her head at his words, her arms sliding up around his neck again, her fingers sinking deeply into the furs he wore, tugging him to her. Cullen found her mouth again, and their kiss grew passionate, hotter, deeper. He managed to pull her to him, and turn them towards his office, managed to get them two steps, when voices emerged from a hallway that led to the ramparts.

“Do you think anyone will be up here?”, the Herald’s voice carried up the stairs, laughter in his words.

“If Talise is up here she will hear us, and she’ll be gone before--” Valissia stopped abruptly, jolting forward when Christopher bumped into her from behind.

“Oof. What? Why did you stop?” He had to put one calloused hand out on the top of a merlon to keep himself from falling further into Valissia, and knocking her small form over completely.

Valissia did not speak a word, instead she stared at the scene in front of her. Talise was wrapped in Cullen’s arms, her face buried in the fur he wore, his hands still tangled in her long locks, their legs entwined enough it was a miracle they could walk.

One small hand lifted, and Valissia pressed it to her burning cheek, which flushed in embarrassment. It was obvious what Cullen and Talise had been doing, and just as obvious as what her and Christopher had been about to be doing, “Oh my. I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“It appears the ramparts are a popular place to come for a… walk”, Christopher could not help the smirk that curled his lips, he met the Commander’s eyes over the top of both women’s head with an approving nod. Cullen’s cheeks flushed, but he maintained his grip on Talise, and met Christopher’s grin with one of his own.

“Valissia. I love you with all my heart. But I am going to murder you in your sleep” Talise’s voice was shaky, she was quivering with denied passion, the blood roaring in her veins still.

“There’s nothing saying you can’t finish. I believe his office is just over that way” Christopher grinned, one arm sneaking around Valissia’s waist and pulling her back to him, “We’ll head back to the library. To do some research.”

“Dead. You are so dead.” Talise gritted the words out, even though she hadn’t moved, before lifting her face towards Cullen. The Commander was blushing, taking several tries to get words out, but he still held her secure against him, and she grinned when she saw him look towards his office.

“I want this. More than anything”, Cullen sighed, tangling his hands in her hair once more, it was like thick, heavy silk, “But you deserve better.”

“What do you mean?” A tremble wracked Talise’s frame, and she curled her fingers into his surcoat.

“You deserve roses. All kinds of flowers. Poetry. Books and long walks”, he ran one hand down her back slowly, pressing her closer to him.

She fought to keep the pout of her voice, her body still shaking with desire, “What if I don’t want that?”

He groaned at her words, his gloves fingers curling into her shirt for a moment as he struggles for control,“Let me do this right, please?”

She sighed, leaning her forehead to rest against his chest, the chestplate he wore cooling her cheeks, “If you insist on it.”

“I do Talise. You’re worth it.” He made no move to kiss her again, not trusting himself. But he also made no move to part from her either, standing with her in the fading twilight for a few more minutes, giving himself some time with her before they parted.

 

In the cool of morning, Talise sat outside, her gear spread around her. Knives, her short sword and dagger, the leather leggings she wore, the leather vest and black shirt, the brace of throwing knives she wrapped around one thigh, more stiletto knives than should be possible to hide on one person, and  all various manner of lock picking gear. Beside her a bucket sat with hot, steaming water, several bars of soap, and oils for the leather and metal, along with a pile of rags.

“Good morning little love”, Valissia grinned at the assassin, knowing full well that Talise had tossed and turned all night long. So had she, truth be told, but she could not resist pestering her dearest friend.

“I told you, I’m going to kill you. But I am going to do it with clean gear”, Talise gritted her teeth at Valissia’s voice, wiping down her short sword one one final time, leaving it gleaming in the morning light.

“I’m so sorry to have interrupted your interlude. But I am so glad it was happening. At last.” Valissia grinned, sitting on a small stood next to Talise, “I thought it was going to take an act of the Maker to push you two together.”

“No divine intervention needed. Just chocolate”, Talise’s scowl turned into a grin as she looked at her friend, her sharp gaze taking in a small, light bruise on the mage’s throat, “It seems like you had fun last night as well.”

“What do you mean?” Valissia frowned at Talise’s smirk.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” Talise touched the love bite on Valissia’s neck, smirking when the mage squeaked in surprise and then blushed.

“I… I mean… we…” stuttering with embarrassment, Valissia sat on a nearby stool, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Her bright gaze did not lift from her sword as she smirked, “Is it possible? Is the mage who never stops talking at a loss for words?”

“He was a perfect gentlemen”, unable to meet her friend’s gaze, Valissia buried her face in her hands, her blushing features visible through her fingers.

“Yeah, that love bite is evidence of that”, Talise snorted in response, eyeing her sword critically before sliding it back into it’s sheath.

A wicked grin lifted the corner of Valissia’s mouth, “And what about Cullen?”

“We did nothing more.” At the mage’s skeptical look, Talise continued, “He wants to court me. Do things right he says.”

“Oh. Oh. That is so utterly romantic.” Valissia sighs, pressing a slim hand to her heart, lost in the idea of Cullen courting Talise.

“I don’t need courting.” The long night showed on Talise’s face, dark circles under her sky touched gaze gave away her lack of sleep, and she could not keep the pout from her words.

“Yes. Yes you do.” Tentatively, Valissia reached for a throwing knife, spinning it gingerly in her fingers.

Talise shakes her head no at Valissia’s words, leaning back on her elbows and sighing, “No. I don’t. I don’t care where we are together, just that we are together. I want him so much it hurts.”

“Talise, listen to me. You’ve lived like a ghost for years. I’ve never seen you serious with a man. I’ve never seen a man want you, and not whomever you were pretending to be for a job.” Putting down the throwing knife, Valissia leans forward, cupping Talise’s face in her hands.

“I’ve never actually--” her cheeks flushed crimson as Talise trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Valissia’s auburn locked shifted as she nodded in agreement, “I know you’ve never seduced anyone for a job. Just flirted enough to get the job done.”

“And what about you? You lived in fear of the Templars for years, traveled to avoid them, you’ve been locked in libraries and museums all of your life. You’ve never been courted either.” Sighing, Talise leaned her forehead against the mage’s, her thickly lashed gaze falling shut.

“You’re right.” Valissia sighed, leaning back against Talise, “We both need this Talise. Just enjoy it.”

Cullen stood across the courtyard, near where the soldiers practiced, watching the scene unfold before him. He had come down to practice early this morning, after a night spent getting less sleep than usual. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her, felt her, tasted her kiss, and he gave up on sleep before the sun was up. Talise sat in the shadows, gear and her leather armor spread out around her; he frowned as he saw how little the armor would truly protect her, it was something he needed to speak to her about.

“Good morning Commander Rutherford”, Talise’s lips curved into a cheeky smirk as she looked up at him. Her eyes were rimmed by dark circles, and her skin was slightly paler than usual, proof she had endured little sleep. But her lips were swollen, and there was a tell-tale scrape of stubble burn on her jawline, proof of his attentions last night.

“I think we’re past formality, don’t you?” he lifted a golden brow at her, leaning against the wall behind her. His honey warm gaze took in the impressive array of weapons that surrounded Talise, all cleaned, and carefully tucked back into sheaths, “How many knives does one woman need?”

“An outrageous amount Commander”, Valissia grinned from her spot on a stool, handing Talise back a dagger.

“Enough to get the job done. Some of us don’t walk around with a huge…. Sword all day long”, careful not to meet his gaze, Talise tucked the dagger into a sheath, a wicked gleam in her sky touched eyes.

“What?? I mean….” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck with one gloved hand, taking a deep breath. When Talise’s eyes flicked to his, he saw the playful challenge in them, and he met her challenge with a retort of his own, “And I would say it’s big enough to get the job done. Too big and it’s unwieldly to use properly.”

Talise leaned back on her elbows, looking over her shoulder and up at Cullen, he was tall enough, and she was so short, that she got faintly dizzy when she looked up at him. Or perhaps it was her heart, that was suddenly pounding in her ears.

“And that is my cue. Excuse me, both of you” her cheeks hot in a blush, Valissia slipped from the stool she sat on, and headed towards the mage tower, ducking around a few practicing soldiers.

“Have a good day little love!!” Talise’s voice sang out over the courtyard, and she grinned when Valissia turned, blowing her a kiss.

“You have a deep friendship” distracted from their flirting, Cullen watched Talise press a kiss to her slender fingertips, and then flick it off with her other hand, towards the mage. He smiled at the assassin’s display of affection, feeling his heart tug as she did it.

“I have never not known Talise, we grew up together”, Talise started to pack up her gear, slipping everything into a well-worth black pack.

“Where did you go grow up?” while she packed, Cullen leaned back against the wall behind him, his amber gaze tracing over Talise as she moved.

“No one has ever asked me that before” She blinks, realization of how little she has ever revealed striking her.

Too late, he realized that she might not be comfortable with his questions, and he mentally cursed himself as he offered her a hand, “If you’re not comfortable telling me.”

She reached up for his hand, curling her fingers around it and sliding her feet beneath her, “No no, it’s not that. It’s just that I’ve never actually talked about my childhood.”

 He pulled her to her feet as soon as she took his hand, and then held onto it, unwilling to let go of her. Even through his gloves he would feel her hands, feel how delicate her fingers were, “I know your parents are gone, if it’s too painful to talk about.”

“Near Highever.” she paused, watching as her fingers linked with Cullen’s, “We lived there, and my father and his group traveled. When I got older I used to beg him to take me with him.”

“Why would you want to travel with a mercenary?” He frowned at he thought, eyebrows drawing together over his warm honey gaze.

Talise grinned, lifting one shoulder in a shrug, “I was young, it seemed like it was so much fun to live free like he did.”

“He was supposed to be a giant of a man, if the stories are to be believed.”

“He was very tall. So was Jordan. My mother was short.”

“And yet, you’re…”

“Pocket sized?”

Cullen laughed then, shaking his head at Talise’s quip, “That’s quite a way of putting it.”

“Jordan and my Dad used to tease me about it. I’ve always been small. Dad used to call me his little love. When he died, Jordan picked it up.”

“And now all of Skyhold calls you that.”

Talise blushed at his words, feeling even the top curve of her ears flood with warmth, “It’s not exactly fearsome, is it?”

“You are not exactly fearsome”, realizing what he could have said could be taken as an insult, Cullen stuttered for a moment, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck once more, “I… I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”

“It’s part of what makes me good, no one suspects that this” Talise gestures down the front of herself with her free hand, “Is Ghost.”

“I know nothing about being stealthy.”

“No, you’re the man with a hammer for whom everything is a nail” she grins impudently up at him, giggling when he heaves a sigh, “That is probably the most accurate description of you I have ever heard.”

“Josephine does have a way with words” he admitted, smiling down at her. Despite the dark circles around his eyes, the almost ever present tiredness, he felt more relaxed and at ease than he had in awhile. Since the last time they played chess, he realized with a jolt.

“You look tired this morning. Is everything alright?”

“Yes.. I… uhh..” he blushed at her scrutiny, his gaze not quite meeting her own, “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Too restless?”

“I wouldn’t call it restless…”

“Can I admit something?”

“Of course Talise, you can tell me anything”,

“I didn’t sleep at all last night. I kept wanting to go back up to your tower. I was restless, and uncomfortable, and I finally ended up reading one of Valissia’s dry books on healing spells. They’re so boring they always put me to sleep” her cheeks were burning when she finished speaking, and she kept her gaze focused firmly on their fingers.

“Talise” he ground her name out, his gaze pinching shut at her admission. He took several deep breaths, feeling his blood heat her words. Letting her slip through his fingers last night had been one of the most difficult things he had ever done, and left alone in his tower he had given in to his desires, stroking himself until he was calling her name when his release took him.

“Should I have kept that to myself?”

“No. I told you can you tell me anything. I got no sleep last night because I was thinking of you.”

Her cheeks flushed hot at his words, and she lifted her chin to look up at him, her teeth sinking into her lip as she did so, “Every time I fell asleep, I was back in your arms again. It was torture Cullen.”

At her whimper, his fingers tightened around hers, and he lifted their entwined hands, pulling her arm up his chest and around his neck, “I tasted your kisses all night long.”

“You mean the chocolate?”, she breathed the words out, leaning into his frame as he pulled her arm around his neck.

“No Talise, you. Although I will never be able to eat chocolate and not think about you”, he chuckled at her words, his free hand cupping her cheek. For a second his lips hovered above hers, waiting for her to make the final move. He groaned when she did, rising to her toes and pressing her lips to his; he was lost when her lips parted beneath his, licking at his lower lip with the barest touch, and his fingers, holding her hand on his shoulder, tightened around hers.

Remembering where they were, she broke the kiss, heaving a sigh and leaning backwards, away from him, “We probably have an audience.”

“They need something to gossip about.” The pack Talise was holding was dropped as Cullen slid his hands around her waist, tugging him to her in one smooth motion, his lips pressing into hers.

Christopher and Cassandra, discussing a report, stopped on the edge of the courtyard, watching Cullen and Talise. Cassandra blushed, but grinned, and walked back up the stairs to the rampart, “I think I will just leave these on the Commander’s desk.”


	7. Chapter 7

He should be asleep. The last few days had been more exhausting than usual, with reports of more and more Venatori attacks filtering in. And now, in the darkest part of night, he should be upstairs, trying to get some rest.

Instead, Cullen sat before his desk, reading and rereading the reports spread out across it. Gritty eyed from lack of sleep, his back and knees aching, he tossed the last report onto his desk, uncaring about the mess spread across it. The last report from Scout Harding had spoken of Venatori presence close to where the Herald and his companions were working; and that was close to where Talise had headed, intent on sniffing out a lead of some kind.

The companions had thundered back in just at sunset, bleeding and hurt, a forward camp had been attacked and they had struggled to fight back. Talise had been seen in the fighting, but had disappeared afterwards, on the hunt of one of the leaders of the Venatori in the area. It was too dark to see any ravens flying in, and instead he had to wait. Restless he pushed up from the desk, almost falling when his knees wobbled, hissing in pain, he slammed one fist into the desk, “Dammit… Talise where are you?”

She limped up the ramparts. Blood dripped off her shirt sleeve, running down the back of her hand and marking her steps in crimson droplets as she made her to Cullen’s quarters. Long strands of dark hair clung to her pale cheeks, the rest hung down her back in a damp, limp mess. Before she was at the door, it opened, and Cullen came striding out into night.

“You!! Go up to the rookery and see if we have any reports from Talise. Find Captain Rylen, have him ready a search party, if no one had heard from her we are leaving tonight”, He was more comfortable barking orders, and that was what he fell back on, unable to simply pace in his office as the night’s candles burned lower and lower.

Talise came to a stop on the ramparts, a bruise darkening one eye and spreading to her cheekbone, mottling her skin in shades of blue and purple, her lower lip was swollen and bleeding from a blow, and her fingers twitched as blood dripped from them and onto the stone of the rampart. She said nothing, merely blinked up at Cullen as he stood in the doorway, barking orders while golden candlelight glowed behind him. Her heart stuttered in her chest as he filled the doorway, squeezing painfully, and she blinked back a sudden rush of tears.

“Andraste preserve me”, Cullen breathed the words out, as Rylen and Jim had fled to do his orders, all of them had come to a halt, staring at the wounded, bedraggled Talise. Cullen recovered first, issuing more orders, “Ignore that. Go find me a healer, right now!!!”

A tiny, tremulous smile lifted the corner of her mouth, and she winced as it pulled on the split in her lip, “Have I ever told you how much I hate mages?”

“Now is the not the time for jokes Talise”, he ran down the rampart to her, sweeping her off her feet and cradling her form against him, “How badly are you hurt?”

“Most of the blood isn’t mine, it makes a mess when you sever an artery”, she heaves a sigh, tugging at the sleeve of her shirt, “This is mine though.”

In his concern for Talise his aches and pains were forgotten, but his knees reminded him as he lowered her to the desk, and he bit back a groan, “Give me a moment.”

“Are you hurt?”, she pressed a hand to her arm, her eyes dark with both pain and concern as she looked at him.

He shook his head, his golden tresses more tousled than usual, and dark circles rimmed his warm honey gaze, despite his words to her, “No, it’s nothing. You need to be looked at”

“Andraste’s tits!!”, Valissia gasped as she rushed into Cullen’s office, followed by Rylen. She was barely dressed, her bright red hair trailing over her back and down her waist, and tangled from sleep, “What happened?”

“Venatori.” Talise groaned, flexing her fingers and hissing in pain.

Valissia dropped the bag she had brought, and started digging through it, speaking without lifting her stormy gaze to Cullen, “Pull her shirt off, and whatever she calls armor.”

His fingers trembled only slightly as he reached for the leather vest she wore, unlacing it and sliding it from her shoulders. Beneath it she wore just a simple shirt, and that was caked with dirt and streaked with blood, “Maker’s breath.. you’ve got to start wearing armor Talise.”

“It makes too much noise. Ow ow ow..” she groaned as she slid out of the vest, her brows drawing together. When Cullen lifted her one arm and then other to tug her shirt off, she whimpered, her face growing pale with pain. Dark blue and black bruises mottled her sides and back, hinting at the damage beneath her skin.

“Rather have them hear you coming than you end up with broken ribs. Again”, Valissia muttered, lifting her head from the back, her eyes widening as she saw Talise’s side, “Too late. Dammit Talise. What did you do?”

“I figured out who was leading the Venatori group that was nearby. I thought to pay him a visit”, holding her hand over the worst of the bruising, she watched Cullen wrap a bandage around the wound on her arm.

“By yourself?”, thankful for something to keep him busy, Cullen concentrated on wrapping the bandage around Talise’s arm, where a blade had dug deeply into the muscle. His amber eyes were dark with worry and concern, and once the bandage was on, he leaned both hands on the desk, “What were you thinking?”

“That we couldn’t lose the opportunity to capture a Venatori agent. He’s being interrogated as we speak”. With her good arm Talise motioned towards the keep, where the prisoner she had drug back to Skyhold was already being questioned.

“I hope it was worth it.” Valissia laid out a few bottles, several with swirling, glowing mixtures in them, before turning to Cullen, “I can heal her. She’ll be weak for several days, and while the bones will heal tonight, they won’t be fully set for a day or so.”

“She gets light-headed after she heals me. Please don’t let her bang her head on the desk or something” Talise winces as she takes too deep of a breath, using her free hand to shove her hair out of her eyes.

“I’ll be right here until you’re done”, Cullen stood next to Talise, leaning against the desk, one hand on her back, and one hand beneath Valissia’s elbow, prepared to catch either woman.

“Once a templar, always a templar” Valissia smiled at his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. As the spells started to work, the bruises faded from Talise’s skin, her face clearing, and the blood that was seeping from under the bandage on her arm slowly stopped. It took longer than Cullen had thought, and by the time she was done, Valissia was swaying on her feet. He guided her to a chair, easing her back into it and then turned to Talise.

It struck him at different times, that the woman he knew was also the feared Ghost of Ferelden. She sat now on his desk, covered in dried blood, holding a hand to her injured ribs, gently pressing and testing the sore spots. Her bruises were gone, but the dark circles around her brilliant blue gaze were almost black.

“Can you make it upstairs?” he nodded towards the ladder that led to his bedroom, such as it was, keeping one hand on Valissia’s arm and one hand on her back, to keep the mage from sliding onto the floor,

Talise blinked at him, frowning in confusion, she had expected to take Valissia down to their shared room and stay with the mage, “Yeah, I can. But Valissia can’t make it to her room alone.”

“I know. And I will take care of that”, gently Cullen pulled his hands from Valissia, tipping her face up in his hands, “Can you sit here for a moment?”

When the mage nodded, Cullen turned, striding to the doors to his quarters and pulling them open, a guard jumped at his appearance, and listened carefully at his orders; Valissia was to be escorted to her rooms, and helped with whatever she needed, fresh clothes were to be brought up for Talise, along with hot water and, “Soap. It’s probably going to take all the soap we have in Skyhold to get her clean.”

A few minutes later Christopher appeared, sighing as he took in Valissia, so exhausted she could not keep her eyes open, as pale as the white sheets they used in the infirmary. Word had trickled down to him that Talise had shown up, and he knelt in front of Valissia, his green eyes dark, “I knew you’d come up here to heal her. How is she?”

“She’ll be fine. Sore for a day or so, but fine.” Valissia could not keep the tiredness from her voice, and she answered without opening her eyes. Her skin was more pale than usual, almost ashen as she sat in the chair. Christopher moved to pick her up, the muscles in his arm bulging as he lifted the mage from her chair.

“And you? And where is our erstwhile assassin?” The Herald managed, just barely, to keep from laughing when Valissia told him where Talise was, he snorted when he looked at Cullen and found the Commander blushing to the roots of his blonde hair. Carrying Valissia tucked against his chest, Christopher looked at Cullen, “I’ll have whatever it was Talise needs sent up. And while you wait… tell her.”

Cullen blanched at Christopher’s words, his eyes going wide, “No. Not right now.”

“No time like the present Commander.” As he spoke the words over his shoulder, Christopher slipped through the doors, walking down the ramparts, keeping Valissia pinned to his chest as he did so.

“Tell me what?” Talise’s voice filtered down through from the balcony, and although she was tired, she could not keep the curious note out of her words.

Cullen sighed, raking a hand through his hair and staring at the ladder, taking several deep breaths before walking to it and climbing up. As his head cleared the top of the ladder, he saw Talise, dressed in one of his cast-off shirts, sliding her leggings off her legs and dropped them a pile beside her boots, “My clean shirts are in the chest, I’ve worn that one.”

“I know. I don’t like how your clean shirts smell”, she grinned at him, scooting on the bed until she leaned against the headboard.

“Talise, be careful, you’ll reinjure yourself.” A frown married his face at her movements, while he worked to tug off his armor.

She stretched her injured arm, testing it already, her brow knitting together as it throbbed with pain at her movements, “Your concern is endearing. And please stop frowning”

“I always frown.” He stood at the side of the bed, frowning even as they spoke of it, opening his mouth to stop her when she tried to move her injured arm, and then closing it with a deeper frown.

“And it’s always distracting. And you’re not going to distract me from answering your question by brooding and frowning”. She moves to the edge of the bed, sitting on the edge in front of where he stands, and looking up at him, her bright eyes intense and focused, “What was Christopher talking about?”

“I quit….” He heaved a sigh, dropping his forehead into his palm, “I quit taking lyrium.”

Talise nodded her head in understanding, her gaze not leaving his face, even as his palm covered it, “That explains it then.”

“Explains what?” Over his gloved fingers, he lifts an eyebrow at her in question, his gaze meeting finally hers. His knees were aching, and he moved to sit beside her, easing onto the bed, stifling a groan as his joints protested at his motions.

“The oakmoss and elderflowers. Each of them have medicinal uses, for easing pain. Without lyrium, you’re hurting.” More carefully this time, more of deference to him than any remaining pain, Talise slid over, until she was sitting beside him.

“I should be taking it. I’m not as strong as I was.” Cullen keeps his gaze, dark with pain and anguish locked on his hands, unable to look over at her, even as she slides closer. The urge to pull her to him is almost more than he can bear, the muscles in his shoulders twitch with the effort of sitting still.

“It’s dangerous Cullen”, Talise had no qualms, and she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder, and curling her one hand around his.

For a moment he remembers the first night with her, when they sat almost like this on the steps in the chapel, only he was the one offering comfort, and his heart twists, clenching at the memory, “I have to give everything to the Inquisition, just like I did the Templars.”

“You are. But you’re also saving your life. I’ve seen the lyrium addicts, used up and discarded by the Chantry.” Her small fingers squeeze his, and she looks up at him, peeking over the top of his shoulder to look at him in profile.

“Talise… I….” he paused, heaving in a breath as he looked over at her, barely able to meet her eyes, “I won’t be able to protect you like I could.”

Dark hair, sticky with blood and grime, shifted slightly when she shook her head no at his words, “I don’t need protection.”

He snorted, gesturing down to his office with one calloused hand, “The state you were in when you got here says different.”

Stubbornly she continues to shake her head no at him, unwilling to back down, but trying to let him come to his own decision, “That is my fault. I take stupid risks.”

“And I can’t protect you from them.” Again, his eyes drop from hers, his head bowing and he stares sightlessly at the door.

“No. Do not make this about me. You’ve put everyone else ahead of your own needs and wants. Do you want to stay off the lyrium?”

He nods, not meeting her eyes, his fingers clenching into fists. As much as she had been unarmored in the fight that left her so wounded, she was pulling his armor off now, leaving him defenseless against the onslaught of his emotions.

“Then do not take it. Even without it Templars are feared warriors. I could not best you in a fair fight. You’re a brilliant strategist, and you’ve raised and trained an impressive army. All without lyrium. If you want to stop, then stop.” Her perceptive  gaze took in the way his fingers trembled when he curled his hands into fists, and the darkness of his gaze. Slowly, giving him time to move away, she reached for him, resting one of her small hands over the back of his larger ones.

“And if I want to take it again?” he barely breathes the words out, flexing his fingers back and forth into fists, and then relaxing them. The differences in their hands, hers small, his large, scars dominating his knuckles, captured his attention, and he focused on her hand resting atop his.

She sucks in a breath at his words, breathless at how much the idea of him staying on lyrium hurts her, “Cullen… Templars lose their memories on it, eventually.”

“We do… wait, how do you know?” He nods at her words, and then looks over at her, frowning in confusion.

She pauses, sighing deeply and fiddling with the sleeve of the shirt she wears, shoving it back up over her hands, “I took a job once, a woman came to me with her life savings, what there was of it, asking me to find her brother. Just find him. It took about 3 months, but I found him up in the Free Marches, begging on the streets for lyrium. He had no memories Cullen, nothing. And he wasn’t the first Templar I saw that way.”

“What happened to the man?” when she spoke of a retired Templar, Cullen felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, he knew his own future could be close to the same, it was one of his deepest fears.

She heaved a breath, and leaned her head against his shoulder, “He had a moment of lucidity, told me about his sister and her family. I was decided to try and bring him to her, and when I got him home, he didn’t recognize her. She wrote and told me he died a few days after I left. I sent her money back, and doubled it.”

Cullen winced, burying his head in his hands, a shiver running through him, “At least he was with his family at the end.”

“There will come a day where you won’t recognize your family. Anyone you know. There will come a day when I look in your eyes and I won’t see you in them anymore”, grimacing in pain when she moved, she slid off the bed, sliding around his leg to sit between his feet, reaching up and cupping one cheek in his hand, “And I would rather face all the Venatori alone, without no armor and no weapons, than watch you fade away from me.”

His fingers slid into her hair, stained and matted with blood, uncaring that his hands would be dirty, as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, “I can’t tell you that you didn’t factor into my decision.”

“Cullen please… stop it.” She sniffled then, unable to keep the silvery tears from welling in her gaze.

“How are you so impossibly beautiful, covered in dirt and blood and I don’t want to know” despite his fears, and the lingering ache in his knees, he ran a finger over her cheek, catching the tear that tracked down her smooth skin.

“I’m not beautiful right now. I’m exhausted. And tired. And I have no idea how I am going to get my hair clean.” She picks at the matted lengths of her hair for emphasis, lifting the heavy strands, slick with blood in places.

 “I do.” Even as he spoke, there was a knock on the door, and a guard entered, followed by servants carrying a small tub, just enough to rinse off in, along with a bag from Talise’s room. Leaning over the balcony, he watched them set everything up, before curling his fingers around hers, and tugging her gently from her spot on the floor beside the bed, “You’ll have to come downstairs, unfortunately.”

It did not take all the soap in Skyhold, but quite a bit of it, to get Talise clean. Cullen tugged the bandage off her injured arm gently, gratified to see it closed, although the wound was still red, and tender to the touch. Following the written directions on the ointment Valissia had left, he rubbed the wound, as well as the few scrapes and smaller cuts Talise had, and then rebandaged her arm, tugging his shirt back over her head and ushering her back up to his bed.

Sometime later, Talise lay with her head in his lap, and he gently worked the tangles out of her now clean hair with a comb, feeling rather inept, and frowning each time he pulled a tangle too hard. But she was relaxed, her eyes closed, long lashes hiding her gaze, and for a moment he thought she was asleep.

“Even if we part, and you shatter my heart, stay off the lyrium”, her voice was soft and quiet, whispered words in the faint candlelight as she lifted her lashes, looking up at him.

The comb paused in her hair, and shook slightly, his fingers trembling, “I’m not going to break your heart. I’m rather afraid for mine.”

“I will always be in the shadows behind you, no matter what happens. But do not make me watch you fade away.” Long lashes lifted to reveal her bright cerulean gaze, liquid with emotion as she looked up at him.

He says nothing, his throat working, but words fail him, and instead his warm whiskey gaze focuses on her hair, combing through it with slow strokes.

“Cullen please. I will probably ask much of you. I’m selfish and self-centered and moody and temperamental”, a small frown mars her face as she lifts her still-healing arm, and she lifts the other one instead, cupping his cheek with cool fingers, her fingers tipped with small callouses.

The hand not combing her hair lifts to her fingers, pressing them against his stubble-covered cheek, “You’re none of those things.”

“I’m well-aware of my short comings. I take risks, I don’t always strategize well. I’m afraid of snakes. No, that’s a lie. I’m terrified of the damn things.” A small smile lifts the bow of her mouth at his denial of her flaws.

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he chuckles, “I suppose I will have to kill any of them for you.”

“Yes you will. Listen to me”, she moves her good arm up to the back of his neck, pulling him to her and rising from his lap at the same time, until they are nearly nose to nose, “You can tell me no. You can yell at me about not wearing proper armor and jumping off of high places. You call tell me when I’m being moody. But give me this one thing, please please do not go back on the lyrium.”

“I won’t.” he sighs, pushing himself to his feet, and taking her small hand in his. Gently he tugged her to her feet, and then pushed back in bed. Once she was settled in his bed, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow behind her, he tugged the blankets up over her, “Will you be alright here?”

“I’m fine”, she could not mask the yawn, and her eyes were hazy with sleep already, “More work to do?”

“No, I need to clear my head. I’ll be just outside, if you need me.” He stayed until Talise’s breathing had evened out, and then made his way down the ladder and to the ramparts outside. The night air was chilly, and he welcomed the cold, taking a deep breath, his eyes closing as he looked out over the darkened mountains. She had accepted his decision easily, leaving the choice up to him, even as she feared losing him. The very idea that Talise, a woman more talented than many he had met, could fear losing him, made his hands tremble for a reason different than lyrium withdrawl. Words came to him, words he had never dared speak to another; had never believed he would say, squeezing around his heart, making it ache more than his body did.

Stronger now, more confident in his decision, he turned and walked back to his quarters, firmly but quietly shutting the doors behind him. His amber eyes turned towards the ladder up to his bedroom, such as it was, even from where he stood he could see starlight flickering in through the hole in the ceiling, the hole he could never seem to tolerate anyone repairing. Talise was up there, exhausted from battle, her wounds scarcely mended, sleeping in one of his shirts; he drug a gloved hand down his face at the thought of her as he had first seen her. He needed to send her away, needed to tuck her back into her bed in her room, and leave her there.

By the time he climbed the last rung of the ladder, he had resolved to do that. His jaw set, he climbed onto the balcony, and stopped. The candles he had not blown out cast golden light over Talise as she slept, now turned onto her side in her sleep. Her skin was free of the bruises that had decorated it, and in the candlelight, she almost seemed to glow, downy lashes covered her bright gaze, and he was thankful for it. Every time she looked up at him with those eyes, he lost himself, would agree to almost anything, would do almost anything. She seemed to weaken and strengthen him with just one look.

With a deliberate slowness, he tugged his armor off, carefully putting it on a stand. When everything was neatly hung, his sword laying atop a chest, he turned back to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head, and letting it simply fall from his fingers. Careful to keep from jostling the bed, he stretched out on it, unable to keep from rolling to his side and studying Talise. This close he saw the small scar that nicked the top of her ear, and the one on the back of her hand.

“No one has a right to be this beautiful”, he whispered the words, letting his calloused fingers roam over her face, gently tracing the high cheekbones, and the finely arched dark eyebrows. Talise’s lashes fluttered, and he paused, until she relaxed back into sleep once more, and he continued his slow, gentle perusal of her face, and then her arms. There was muscle there, but she was thin, she didn’t have the bulkiness that even some scouts had, his fingers traced her slender ones, feeling the callouses on the pads of her finger tips, the scar on the back of her hand. A shudder wracked him when she wrapped her fingers around his, murmuring in her sleep.

With a sigh, Talise shifted, snuggling close to her side, and rather than warm, he was met with cool, smooth skin. Every time he had touched her, or held her, he had been struck by how cool her skin was, and he sighed as she moved closer to him, pressing her body against his, one arm lifting to loop around his neck. Running his hands down her arms and her back, in a gentle motion, his lashes grew heavy, once, twice, three times he blinked sleep away before he relaxed and was asleep.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The awesome and very talented @nsfwfrosch made a gif of the desk scene for me. 
> 
> https://nsfwfrosch.tumblr.com/image/166297888947

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, assume it's NSFW and explicit. I will try to put a reminder on any chapter that has any smut, but I will probably forget.

Song: Ellie Goulding, "Love Me Like You Do"

 

Chapter 8: Say the Words

Talise had never been a good patient. She was restless for the few days the healers ordered her to rest, picking up a book only to toss it to one side, grumpily turning down any food only to want it back minutes later, getting testy with Valissia and the healers as they checked on her wounds. The two days it took before Valissia declared that Talise could stop resting had tested their friendship, and both were short with each other.

As soon as she had been cleared by Valissia she had taken a long bath, ruthlessly scrubbed her hair clean; and dressed in clean clothes, headed for the Rookery. Talise passed the morning there, going over reports with Leiliana, and making plans; she had so easily merged her contacts with the Spymasters, and they worked so well together, Leiliana jokingly called her the Left Hand of the Left Hand. By the time they were done, a series of reports had been sent to Cullen and Josephine, and the rookery was nearly empty of both ravens and scouts. Both Talise and Leiliana were intent on finding out any scrap of information on Corypheus and his army, and they were both willing to stop at nothing to do so.

The rest of the day passed quickly for Talise. Her favorite poison was running low, and she mixed some of it, sitting in the apothecary shop as she worked. After her mission the previous days, her daggers had been well-used, and she cleaned them, taking them to Daghna to be thoroughly repaired and sharpened.

Now, she was standing in her room, looking at a small wooden box sitting on the vanity she shared with Valissia. The top was scattered with the trappings of two women, but also bottles of poison, herbs Valissia was studying, a few spells on scrolls, and several throwing knives. A small spot in the chaos had been cleared, and there sat the box. Along with a note, folded in half, her name written on the front, already she recognized his handwriting, it had come from Cullen.

Grinning despite herself, she opened the note first, leaning against the vanity as she read it, one ankle crossed over the other.

_Talise,_

_You told me once about the flower garden your mother planted, and how it attracted butterflies. You smiled when you spoke of it, and these reminded me of your smile. Maybe someday you will have time to plant your own butterfly garden._

_Cullen_

With one hand, she reached for the box, her eyes re-reading Cullen’s words, and without ever taking her sky touched gaze from the paper, she flipped the top of the box open. Only then did she dare peek at the contents of the box, a small sigh leaving her lush lips as she did. Inside of the box were packets of seeds, carefully labeled.

Still holding the letter in one hand, she picked up a packet in the other and stared intently at it. The conversation had been a short one, she had remarked on the flowers growing in the garden, and the memory of playing in her mother’s flower garden. Each packet represented something more permanent, somewhere solid to live, as Talise and not as Ghost. Or maybe as both, she was both the woman who loved flowers and an assassin.

 Laying the letter to one side, she picked up each packet, looking them over carefully. Most she recognized, and she closed her eyes as they started to brim with tears, remembering the times she played in the garden watching the butterflies. A smile curled the corner of her lips, and she brushed away her tears, tucking each packet of seeds back into the box with tender care.

A stack of stationary rested on one corner of the vanity, and she reached for several pages of it, a quill pen and a bottle of ink, setting out to craft a response. A few minutes later, she slipped into Cullen’s office, laying an envelope with his name on it, written in a feminine swirl, as well as a freshly picked morning glory, on his desk. As stealthily as she came in, she walked back out, a faint shadow as she walked down ramparts.

With Christopher at his heels, Cullen walked into his office, agreeing on a few last details for a plan. Cullen’s warm honey gaze saw the flower on his desk, and a small envelope beneath it. Casually he moved to pick it up, sighing as he caught just the barest whiff of water lily on the air, it almost seemed like Talise had been here to deliver her response himself.

“Since you’re obviously not conducting Inquisition business, I’ll just see myself out”, the Herald grinned as Cullen held the flower in his hand, studying it intently, before slipping out a door. Putting the flower down carefully, he picked up the envelope, and tugged it open, breaking the gray wax seal, decorated with crossed daggers.

_Cullen,_

_Thank you. I barely spoke of the garden, but you saw how much the memories meant to me. You keep doing that, noticing small things that I think are hidden away._

_And yes, I will find somewhere to plant the flowers and make my own butterfly garden. Maybe you’ll help me plant them._

_Talise_

_The necklace is my favorite. Take good care of it._

“Necklace?” even as he spoke the words, he saw a glint of silver in the corner of the envelope, and with fingers that just barely shook, he tipped the envelope up. A silver chain slid from the envelope, decorated with a tiny pendant. Delicate silver wires were curled into the shape of butterfly wings; in the golden light that filtered through his windows, tiny gems sparkled blue and turquoise. The delicate pendant spun in the light as he stared at it, and he was nearly overcome by an urge to go find Talise, to hold her to him and promise her that he would plant flowers with her. Once this was over, if they survived, if this war ever ended, he would plant all the flowers she wanted.

Instead, he sat down at his chair, unbuckled his chest plate enough to slide his hand in, and dropped the necklace into a pocket on his shirt. It was too small for him to wear, and he was afraid of breaking the delicate chain, so instead he tucked it into a pocket on his muscled chest, a few inches away from his heart, before writing a note back.

_Talise,_

_I will keep your necklace safe for as long as you want me to. Can I see you this evening? I have a meeting after dinner, but I’ve been promised it will be a short one._

_Cullen_

Dinner time found Talise in between Varric and Valissia, with Iron Bull and Dorian sitting across from her, and Sera slipping her notes from down the table.

“Talise…. Any plans for this evening?” Valissia grinned, unable to resist giving her best friend a good ribbing while they sat together at dinner.

“Plans??”, Bull’s good eye peered intently at Talise, his lips curving when he saw her blush and fidget in her chair, “I say she should strip naked, walk up to the ramparts and demand that Cullen f—“

“That is more than enough!!!” Talise protested, pressing her hands against her ears as everyone around her laughed, “He hates gossip you know.”

“Then he needs to stop stealing kisses he thinks we don’t see”, Sera grinned, shoving a cookie in her mouth.

“So will you go up to his office, and just strip there then?” Varric looked up from the book he was writing in, his quill pausing, a wicked grin on his face.

“That desk looks sturdy enough.” Iron Bull grinned at her over the top of his tankard, before draining it in one motion.

Talise choked on a mouthful of her dinner, unable to breathe for a second, and she glare at the Qunari, “Bull, stop it.”

Iron Bull shrugs one massive shoulder in response, smiling at Talise’s glare, “It’s not like he doesn’t want you. We all know he does.”

“He has a point”, Varric nods, “Cullen’s infatuation is obvious for anyone with a pair of eyes and half a brain.”

“Are we talking about Talise and Cullen?” Dorian smirks, sitting down next to Iron Bull, just slightly closer than he would have previously.

“Oh Maker. I wish you two would quit stalling”, huffing in annoyance, Cassandra sits on the other side of Valissia.

“Ok, I’m done. I have somewhere to be”, Talise jumps up from her seat, almost knocking it over in her embarrassment.

“Come on now little love”, Varric grins at her, “Sit down and finish dinner. You go see him now and you’ll faint before the good parts.”

“Wouldn’t that be romantic though, she just swoons into his arms?”, Sera snorted with laughter at the idea.

Talise stopped to finish off the wine she had been drinking, ignoring her food, “I’ll grab something to eat on my way to…. Do whatever it is I’m doing.”

“You mean who.” Bull looks from Dorian to Talise, smirking at her.

“I said nothing of the sort.” Desperately trying to keep the blush from her cheeks, Talise turned, making her way towards the doors of the tavern.

“Didn’t have to. Ben-Hassrath, remember?” As Bull called out the words, he dropped an arm over the back of Dorian’s chair, in a move both casual and meaningful.

Talise fairly flees the inn, leaving the companions laughing, and Cassandra turned to Valissia, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Little love?”

“It’s not exactly the nickname you would expect a fearsome assassin to have”, Dorian adds, sipping at his drink. He did not move away from Bull, but did not lean into the warrior either, although he could not keep the smile from his face.

“It was what her father called her. She came early, and she was this tiny thing with dark hair that screamed all the time. Or so Jordan always said,” Valissia smiled at the memories of her friends, “When her father died, Jordan started calling her that. I picked it up from there.”

Cassandra nodded, taking a tankard from a passing barmaid with a murmur of thanks, “So it’s a family thing then?”

“It’s odd she lets people here call her that.” Dorian, still half-ignoring Iron Bull, half-leaning into him, spoke from his side of the table.

“No. It’s not.” Valissia pausedfor a moment, long fingers toying with her mug of ale, “She has not been Talise much. She’s been the Ghost of Ferelden more. But here, she gets to be who she really is.”

“So we can all call her little love then?” Iron Bull smirked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Cullen had been protective of Talise since the moment she had stepped into Skyhold, and that protectiveness grew with each day. Now it was obvious to more than just a well-trained Qunari spy.

“I would take that up with Commander Rutherford if I were you”, with a smirk on his face, Christopher dropped into the chair beside Valissia, lifting a hand to brush a kiss against her fingers, “And I have the feeling he will say no. Meeting is over, which is why I suppose I don’t see Talise.”

“So, is she going to see him or what?” Sera breaks the quiet moment, earning her a grin from Varric.

Valissia nods, lifting her gaze from the Herald’s, “I’m certain of it.”

“This isn’t just a thing, for her, is it?” Cassandra frowned suddenly, concern darkening her features.

“I don’t think so.” Valissia shakes her head no in response, auburn hair gleaming in the firelight, “Cullen… I don’t know how to explain it, but he sees her. I think he’s the first one to see her, and not just a spy skulking around in corners.”

“Hawke did once. I remember he questioned Jordan about Talise repeatedly, until finally Jordan threatened to beat him to a pulp.” Varric spoke off-handedly, his quill moving across the paper as he wrote, not lifting his eyes from his work.

“Really??”, Valissia blinks a few times, “I had no idea.”

“Do you remember when the three of you came to Kirkwall, you were headed to see Amelia?”, Varric looked over at Valissia, continuing when she nodded, “Hawke was interested in her then.”

“Well, she’s a lost cause for sure.” Dorian speaks, “If she goes up there to Cullen, things will change between them. And no one will have a shot with her.”

“No one has had a shot with her since she walked in through the gates. He’s all she’s looked at”, Iron Bull speaks then, draining his mug.

“The shadow looks for the light. The light waits for the shadow. They will meet where shadow and light touch.” Cole speaks, appearing out of thin air, causing several of the companions to jump.

“Andraste’s bouncing tits Kid!! Don’t just sneak up like that!” Varric recovered first, glaring at the blonde-haired, half-spirit. Despite their fears, Cole was well-meaning, but his habit of just appearing was disconcerting.

It was a relatively short meeting, but Cullen had been impatient from the start, gloved hands tapping on the war table anytime a discussion drug on for long. Talise’s team of contacts and spies had been added to the Inquisition’s, and there was a fresh stack of reports. He was grateful for the additional information, but also impatient to get done with the meeting. Gloved fingers drummed on the table anytime anyone spoke for over long, and he was more distracted than usual, agreeing to several plans only to change his mind and argue for a more militaristic approach.

As soon as Christopher departed for the Herald’s Rest, Josephine for her office and Leiliana for the rookery, Cullen headed back to his quarters. Once inside he surveyed the room, muttering a prayer of gratitude that it was neat and tidy. The envelope that had contained Talise’s necklace and her flower had been moved to a shelf on the bookcase, he stared at the flower as he started to pace the length of his office, questioning whether he was pushing things too far and too soon. Talise was still grieving for her brother, the war was still waging, he had no idea what the morning would bring them. Was now the time to start something like this with her? And if not now, when?

With every step across the keep, up to the ramparts, Talise’s heart rocketed in speed, until she could feel it throbbing in the hollow of her throat. Her knees wobbled on the steps, and she had to lean over the top of the rampart when she got to the top, heaving deep breaths into her lungs. Everything would change, one way or the other, when she walked into Cullen’s office. Her heart, something she had kept hidden away all her life, would be out in the open, leaving her more vulnerable than if she was standing in a room full of guards in the middle of the day, holding the Ferelden royal jewels.

Her sure steps faltered again, and she came to a stop, staring at the door to Cullen’s office, her feet suddenly locked in place. It took several breaths for her hands to stop shaking, and she stood there for several minutes more, her swirling cerulean gaze wide in the moonlight, the fluttering heartbeat visible in her throat, betraying her nerves, even as she stood completely still.

Two choices lay before her, to retreat into the shadows, to end this… flirtation before it really got started, and bury the memory of stolen kisses in the back of her mind. Focus on the war, on defeating a monster of nightmares made real, and saving her world. Or… walk past all the complications, all the complexities of life that faced her, past the pain of her losing her family, walk out of the shadows, and straight into Cullen’s arms.

Weeks’ worth of memories come to her; that first awful night, when he had stayed with her, praying the words she could not say, keeping one hand curled around hers and an arm wrapped around her shoulder until her tears faded. His hand curled around her arm when she faced the Herald’s judgment, intent on protecting her, seeing the good in her, even as he missed the good in himself. His letters, gradually warming up to her, until he confessed he saw her eyes in the morning glories in the garden, playing chess, that flower he picked for her, the one she had the mages carefully preserve and protect in a glass box, the way he looked at her, every time he saw her. Waiting for her one evening as she taught the scouts, bringing her chocolate, and the kisses on the ramparts afterwards.

“If I die tomorrow, I will not waste tonight” whispering the words, she took one step, then another, her easy saunter returning to her, and she stepped up to his door, raised a hand to knock softly, only to see that the heavy door is just barely open. Pushing it open, she peered inside, sighing as she saw him.

Cullen stood before a darkened window, his back to the office, one hand braced on the stone windowsill, his blonde head bowed in thought. From her spot in the doorway, she could see him frowning, and her fingers curl against her palms, as the sudden urge to run her fingers across the worry lines catches her.

“Cullen?” she spoke his name softly, almost whispering it, almost hesitant to walk into his office, even as her heart demanded she do just that.

“Maker’s breath…” she stood in a puddle of moonlight, her hair nearly black in the darkness, the shining mass lifted up in some way that makes him want to run his fingers through her hair, tugging it free. Against her porcelain skin, her eyes appeared brighter, shining in shifting shades of blue as she looked up at him, meeting his gaze directly instead of peeking out from underneath him from her lashes. A silken shirt was tied around her neck, baring smooth shoulders to him, and his amber gaze lingered on the curves of her breasts, staying there for a beat too second, before sliding down her body. It was her leggings that nearly snapped his control, the ties on the hips were not laced all the way up, instead bits of tender skin was bare to his honey warm gaze, “You are beautiful.”

He his compliment was rewarded with a blush that darkened the tops of her cheeks, and even the curves of her ears as she stepped into the office, “Thank you. I feel more nervous than beautiful.”

“You? Nervous?” He walked to her, leaning past her to shut the heavy doors, his hands staying on the heavy wood, braced on either side of her head.

He was so close, she took a deep breath, oak moss and elderflower filling her head, making it swim slightly, “HmmMmm. Very nervous.”

“I make you nervous then?” He leaned toward her, close enough to catch a whiff of her water lily scented hair, just the smell of her had his pulse racing, bringing out a side of him he thought carefully hidden away.

He was more aggressive, somehow, leaning closer to her as she leaned against the door, and Talise stifled a whimper, sinking her teeth into her lower lip and biting the curve hard, “I can’t hide. I mean, I can, but you seem to be able to find me anytime I hide.”

“I’m trained for it… and besides”, with a gentle, commanding dominance, he leaned in, almost kissing her, “You smell like flowers. I just follow your perfume.”

 “Maybe… I will… stop… wearing it” even to her ears her words are breathy.

Slowly, infinitely slowly, but not faltering, he slide one hand around her back, drawing her away from the door, and pulling her to him, “Hmmmm.. So I will have to chase you then? Is that what you want?”

Talise shook her head no at his words, past the point of any interest in the chase, or in being chased.

“Tell me what you want.” Still moving slowly, but with quiet dominance, he leaned down to whisper in ear, cupping her head with his free hand.

“I want…” her teeth dug into her lip again, and he leaned forward to stop her, pressing a feathery soft kiss against her bruised lower lip. Talise remembered her words to Valissia that morning in the garden, speaking of her deepest desire, and her cheeks flushed again.

Whispered words were pressed into her cheek with small kisses, the hand that cupped her head releasing it to stroke through her dark tresses, tugging free tiny hair pins as he found them, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

A blush covered every visible inch of silky smooth, pale skin, as she spoke, “To…. To be engulfed. Overwhelmed. To forget my own name, the world. To see nothing… but you.”

Cullen’s gaze widened for the briefest moment, of all the things he thought Talise would want, would ask for, she had shocked him. He leaned his forehead against hers, his hands curling into fists on the door as he fought desperately for some small thread of control. The battle was lost when Talise leaned up, flicking her tongue against his lower lip, and then sucking it past her lips, nipping at it with her teeth.

In one move he picked her up, pinning her to his body, and turned, taking the few steps to his desk. He would never make it to the ladder to his bed, and with one arm he shoved the reports, the papers, the books, off his desk, sending everything falling to the floor in a crash. Once his table was cleared off, he set Talise on the edge of it, leaning into her and capturing her lips in a kiss.

 Her nimble fingers were working on the clasps of his chest piece as he shrugged out of his surcoat, letting it fall to the ground in a heap of fur and dark red cloth. He had one glove between his teeth, pulling it off his hand when he felt the tremor go through her body, “Talise… have you done this before?”

“Have I ever stripped a man out of his armor while sitting on his desk?” she grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed with arousal.

His calloused fingers trailed over the lush curve of her lower lip, rubbing it back and forth, “I’m not joking Talise. I want this, badly. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“To answer your question, yes I have”, she stammered a bit, her usually nimble fingers fumbling with the clasps on his armor, “If you must know, it wasn’t good. I didn’t… he was timid, unsure of himself. Every time.”

“Just one man then?” He tugged his other glove free as he spoke, dropping them both to the floor.

She nodded, leaning her burning forehead against his chest, “Yes, just the one man. Being a world-famous assassin doesn’t really give you much time for sex.”

His blood roared at her words, and he clenched his fingers around hers’ for a moment, heaving a deep breath into his lungs, letting go of her fingers and tilting her chin up with one hand, “This won’t be just once. I will give you time to walk out, if you want. But if you stay here, you’re mine Talise. Mine.”

She froze, looking up at him with sky touched eyes, meeting his arousal darkened gaze while her cheeks heated in a blush. Her fingers traced the templar sword engraved on his greaves, and finally she looked down, she would be puddled on his desk if she looked into his amber gaze any longer

Calloused fingers slid into the shining lengths of her dark hair, tugging her head back when she would look away, “Oh no. You said you wanted to be overwhelmed. To lose yourself. You can’t close your eyes, and you can’t look away.”

She nodded, wincing slightly when the movement pulled on her hair, lost his golden gaze. A sigh escaped her when his fingers trailed over her bared shoulders, “You’re warm.”

Calloused fingers slid over her shoulders, toying with the silken ends tied in a bow behind her neck, “Maker’s breath… how is your skin this soft?”

“You don’t see the bottles of lotion in my room”, she grinned at his words, but lifts her hands in helplessness, “I give up. There is no way to get you out of your armor. You must sleep in it.”

He laughed then, her frustration with his armor giving him something to focus on other than the tender skin at the back of her neck, skin he wanted to sink his teeth into, “Here, let me show you.”

For a few minutes, he held his fingers with his, running them over the clasps and buckles in his armor, slowly taking his piece off, and letting them drop to the floor. When the last piece dropped to the floor with a clang, her arms curled around his neck, tugging him to her, and he followed, tugging off the arming vest he wears beneath it as he leaned into her.

Her lips grazed his neck, and one of his hands curled into her hair, gripping it tight enough to bring her head up, his other hand reached for the ties on her hip, tugging at them, “Is there a reason why you didn’t tie them all the way?”

“All the better to seduce you”

“You didn’t need the leggings.” He whispered the words in his ear, tugging on the suede ties, groaning as they came undone easily in his hands. The supple material was molded to her legs, and so snug, that the gap in her leggings widened, revealing more of her thigh, “Don’t move.”

She nodded as he let go of her hair, her bright gaze watching his fingers as he reached for the ties on her other leg, tugging them hard enough to jerk the loose bow she looped into the tie open. Her leggings pooled around her hips, if she was standing they would be sliding down her legs. One large hand skimmed down her leg, trailing over the bared skin, grabbing the top of her boot and pulling it off, before Cullen tugged her other boot off.

The cool air raised goosebumps on her pale skin, and Talise shivered, the only movement she made as Cullen pulled her boots from her, her gaze dark with desire. He felt the shiver, and slowly he slid his hands up her legs, gripping her leggings and tugging them down her legs in one smooth motion, the laces running up her thighs pulling free further.

“Cullen…”

“Hush.” He paused in his perusal of her body, running just the tips of his fingers over her thighs, gratified to see her squeeze them together in response, “Don’t move.”

“I haven’t.” She gritted the words out, her entire body throbbing as his fingers slid over her thighs.

“I know. Good girl”, his fingers slowly skimmed up her arms, toying with the ties on her shirt behind her neck, “And did you wear this shirt to seduce me too?”

She nodded at his words, unable to hide the shiver that coasted down her spine, his tone was rougher, deeper, and she was responding to it, “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to.” He leaned in to brush a kiss across her lips, before pulling back, “I’ve wanted you every time I saw you. Sitting in the war room, reading your reports, I wanted you. Playing chess in the garden, I wanted you. I was hard for days after you brought me up here to eat chocolate.”

With each word, he tugged a little harder on the ties of her shirt, slowly loosening them, pulling with sure, determined ease. When the bow loosened fully, and the ties fell apart, Talise’s hands rose to catch them automatically. Cullen grinned them, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth, “No no. You weren’t supposed to move.”

He caught both of her hands in his at the same time he leaned into her, pressing her backwards onto the desk, until she was stretched out on the desk underneath him. The top of her shirt was loosened enough that the curves of her breasts were bared as she stretched out beneath him, one bare foot coming up to rest on the edge of his desk, and tugged at the material, hard enough that the stitches gave with a popping noise, "Tell me something… how much do you like this shirt?”

Talise panted for breath, her chest rising and heaving, beneath the shirt she was bare, and her nipples hurt as they hardened into points, just barely hidden from view by her shirt, “I… can…”

“You can?” He prompted when she paused, his lips pressed between her breasts, dropping warm kisses up the inner curves, where her skin was as soft as down.

“Get a new one” she gasped the words out, her fingers rising from where he had placed them on his desk, digging into his shoulders.

“Talise… You were supposed to hold still”, smirking at her, he lifted her hands back into place, pinning them with one hand. One swift, hard pull and the shirt she wore disintegrated, seams popping and panels of watered silk falling apart. Cullen looked down at her and groaned, she was perfect; pert breasts, not quite enough to fill his hands were topped with rose pink nipples, nipples that were hard already, begging for his mouth.

Her teeth dug into her lower lip until it hurt as his mouth closed over her breast, and Talise tried in vain to keep the moan from escaping her. Muscles bunched as she arched from the desk, offering herself further to Cullen, who answered with a muffled groan. His lips still sucking on her nipple, tongue lashing it, one hand slid up the inside of her thigh, until he felt smooth silk and lace. For a moment he paused, torn between letting go and looking down to see what she was wearing, or just pulling off. At her whimper, he lifted his head, seeing her swollen lower lip being battered between her teeth, and he lifted his head, “I was going to go slow. I wanted to go slow. Maker’s breath, I want to go slow.”

The silk in his hands came apart with a tug, and he groaned again, looking down to see her swollen and wet already, dark hair carefully trimmed, “Talise… I can’t stop.”

She ignored his command to stay still, and shifted, wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers curling into his wrist as he held her hands to the desk, “Please Cullen… please…”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Cullen…” she pants his name, her legs tightening around his waist, trying in vain to pull her to him, “I told you what I wanted. You said you would give it to me if I told you.”

“Maker’s breath…” His free hand slid down her stomach, feeling the muscles bunch and jump as she squirmed, and he gritted his teeth, remembering his training to keep from losing every ounce of control he had, “I did say that… didn’t I?”

She nodded, shifting and writhing beneath him, he was so close to touching her, his fingers skimming over her skin, rubbing her swollen clit gently. The moan that escaped her echoed in his office, and her hips lifted eagerly from the wooden desk, following his movements, “Please…”

“Please what Talise?”

“Please… don’t…” she meant to say stop, meant to beg him for more, but his fingers left her clit, and she whined, the sound rising into a squeal as he slid one finger into her, with agonizing slowness.

“Don’t? You don’t want me then?” Cullen winced as she squeezed his finger, adding another, ignoring the throb of his cock, which was pressing insistently against his pants.

“I didn’t say that..” Talise panted, her hands struggling against his as she squirmed, her nails digging into his palm and the back of his hand. She was so slick, and growing wetter by the second, her thighs growing damp with it, as she pressed her hips against his hand. White sparks grew in vision, and she moaned, arching up against Cullen’s frame, “Fuck… Cullen.. please..”

“Give it to me sweetheart. Let me feel you” he murmured the words in her ear, nipping at the soft flesh beneath it, intent on feeling her orgasm around his fingers. He had been shocked when she had admitted to never climaxing with a man, and he was now driven by some instinct to be the first one it happened with.

As his fingers slid in and out of her with pleasurable movements, Talise shuddered, her legs shifting restlessly around his waist. Electricity sparked down her spine, and she arched, a moan rising in her throat, only to turn into a scream when Cullen brushed his calloused thumb against his aching clit.

She was screaming, the sound morphing into his name, and Cullen groaned, reaching for the ties on his breeches, and tugging them open. As soon as his cock slid out, he ran a hand down his swollen length, once, twice, moaning as pleasure arced through him. His muscles jumped as he leaned down, brushing against her, drawing her orgasm out, and before she relaxed beneath him, he pushed into her body, cursing as she tightened around him. With one long thrust he slid into her body, until his hips were pressed against hers, and her legs curled around his waist.

His hand, smarting where her nails had dug into it, released her hands, and he grabbed her waist with both hands, pulling her down the desk until she was fully embedded on his length, and he was stretched out over her, panting as he thrust into her slowly, grinding against her, “Is this what you wanted?”

Just as she could start to breathe again, he had slid into her, and she had, despite his earlier words, closed her eyes as her climax burned hotter, drawing out further, burying her head in his shoulder. At his words she opened her eyes, and saw nothing but his skin, the curve of his shoulder, the line of his neck; her body responded by clenching around his, “Yes Cullen. Yes.”

She was too wet, too hot, too tight, squeezing around him, and he groaned, cursing as he held still, his fingers squeezing around her waist. He was spiraling out of control, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her repeatedly, as hard as he could, until she was screaming his name again. The urge to fuck her, over and over, until she was undeniably his, snapped his control repeatedly.

With each thrust she slid up the table, and he brought her back to him, pulling on her hips, feeling her heat envelope him and squeeze him tightly, until he could not even breathe. Every inch of her pale skin, normally so cool to the touch, was warm, turning pink, a blush that spread down her cheeks, he shoulders, over the curves of her breasts and down the flat planes of her stomach. His warm gaze followed the flush of color, and he let go of her hips to follows the blush with his hands, and then his lips, sucking one tautened nipple into his mouth and nipping at it with her teeth.

Talise shrieked then, her skin almost too sensitive to touch, and she curled her fingers into his hair, holding him to her tightly, her hips lifting from the desk to meet each hard, demanding thrust. Her legs tightened around his waist, and she slid one hand down the back of his head and over his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

The flash of pain as she raked her nails brought his head up, desire burning hot in his gaze, “I’m fairly certain… I told you.. to leave your hands on the desk.”

“I didn’t listen.” She smirked up at him, shifting her legs and lifting her hips higher off the desk

Cullen stopped, almost pulling from her body, groaning with the effort, and leaned back, sliding her down the desk until her ass was nearly hanging off it, pushing her smooth thighs further apart with his hands, “So you’re not my good girl.”

Good girl. Every time he said it, whispered those words in his rough voice, chills skated down her spine, and Talise could not stop the whimper as he slid her down the desk, her fingers scratching the surface as she searched for a place to hold on to.

“Don’t. I’ve got you.” Teasingly he rocked just barely in and out of her as he held onto her hips, smirking down at her, “Look at you… spread out on my desk for me. Wet and pink and begging for me.”

Her blue gaze nearly rolled back in her head, with each teasing thrust he got deeper, almost brushing that spot inside of her that sent fire roaring through her. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t feel her toes, couldn’t feel anything but him, sliding in and out of her body with wicked sureness, “Please… please… please…”

“There she is. There’s my good girl”, he watched her eyes dilate when he called her that, watched her pulse thrum in the hollow of her throat, felt her squeeze tighter around him and he cursed, losing himself and slamming into her, his hips grinding against hers.

“Cullen…” she whimpered the words, one hand sliding down her body, nimble fingers reaching for her swollen clit as he thrust into her.

“Fuck Talise… I can’t watch you..” his eyes squeezed shut, his hands trembling on her thighs as he held her legs open wider, giving him more room to surge into her body in harder thrusts.

She paused, her fingers just inches from her aching clit, her teeth digging into her lip as she whimpered. Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t, when his eyes closed she worried she had pushed things too far, and suddenly she wanted to bury her face in his neck.

As in tune with her as he was, Cullen felt her fingers still, felt her body shift, and he blinked, slowing his thrusts and looking down at her. His heart squeezed hard when he saw the uncertainty in her cerulean gaze, and he reached for her, rubbing his thumb over her bruised lower lip, “You’ll make me cum Talise. I can’t watch you and not lose myself in you.”

“I won’t then.”

“Maker’s breath.. don’t you fucking dare”, he groaned, his fingers reaching for her dark hair and curling into it, holding on tightly, “I want you to. I need you to.”

Slowly, her fingers inched down, trailing over her clit in the barest touch, even her light touch enough to set her off, and she squealed, her hips rising from the desk, her depths squeezing him harder as she rubbed again, moving in tiny circles.

He knew what she wanted, and knew what she needed, when she had asked for it, and he leaned down, enough to whisper to her in a rough command, “Be my good girl. Do what I told you.”

Talise’s eyes squeezed shut at his words, she was right there, hovering on the edge, when he thrust into her welcoming body harder, pulling her hips to his with his hands, and his words pushed her over. Her breath caught as her vision turned white, and when she sucked in a breath, she was screaming his name, uncaring of anyone that would hear her. Cullen slipped a hand over her mouth, still coherent enough to muffle her scream.

But it was his name. His name she had screamed as she came, tightening around him until it was painful, until could do nothing but thrust helplessly into her, swelling as he got closer to the edge, feeling her grow slicker and wetter and even hotter than she had been before. With a shout he came, his hips pressed so tightly against hers they almost ached, his knees wobbling, and he fell against the desk, propping himself up with one hand.

Talise was not sure how long they floated, rocking against each other, drawing the pleasure out as far as they could, her legs wrapping tightly around his hips, her arms cradling his head to her breasts. He moved justly barely, surging into her slowly, and finally he slid out of her body with a moan, too sensitive to stay within her folds, as much as he wanted to. His amber eyes darkened as he looked down at her, the flush starting to fade from her skin, her eyes half-closed, a flash of blue from under coal dark lashes. His seed leaked from her, smearing her thighs, glistening over her folds, and he groaned, feeling his cock twitch with interest as he leaned back.

“Are you alright?”

In an instant, the dominating man was gone, and Talise felt something soft and warm curl around her heart, more than it had been there before. She nodded weakly, her feet sliding off the edge of the desk, and he caught her legs in his hands, keeping her thighs from slamming onto the edge of the table. Once her feet were safely on the ground, he reached for her, lifting her from the table and into his arms, sighing as she tucked her head underneath his chin, “Are you sure you’re alright. You’re so tiny… and tight. Maker’s breath, you have no right to feel that good.”

She felt the shudder pass through his frame as his words, and she giggled, clamping a hand to her mouth to try and stifle her laughter as she leaned into him, “I didn’t think that was a bad thing.”

He grinned as she laughed, enjoying the sound of her laughter, “It is. Tomorrow, when I’m standing at my desk, giving orders, I’ll think about this. And how incredibly tight you are.”

“That’s a bad thing?” Slowly she stretched her legs, reaching for the floor with her toes.

“If I drag you in here and strip you naked in the middle of the day it is.” As he spoke he reached for the shirt he wore beneath his armor, the fabric wrinkled from laying on the floor, and tugged it over her head, “And I owe you a shirt.”

“I’ll just take one of yours in payment.” An impish grin lifts her mouth as she lifts her now tangled hand from under the collar of his shirt, tugging the last remaining pins out of the dark tresses.

He smiled at her, the scar that cut down to his lips moving as he did, “You could make 4 of those flimsy things you wore out of one of my shirts, how is that fair?”

“Never claimed to be fair Cullen.” She grinned, pulling away from him and flipping her hair over her head, sauntering towards the ladder that led to the balcony where his bed was.

A shriek filled the air as Cullen snatched her, turning her to face him, and then lifted her over one shoulder, walking towards the ladder as he did, “I agree, you’ve never played fair.”

“Cullen!!” She squirmed half-heartedly, before giving up and hanging over his shoulder as he climbed the ladder, her eyes widening as they got further off the ground, “You know, I’m perfectly capable of climbing the ladder by myself.”

“I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall” He grinned as he felt her stiffen, clamping a hand around her waist and pinning her to him as he climbed the ladder, not pausing until they stood on the balcony and he could set her gently on her feet, holding onto her elbows to steady her.

As soon as Talise was on her feet, she looked up, through the hole in the ceiling, not saying anything as she searched the sky. The neckline of his shirt, untied, fell over her shoulder as she stood there, and she tugged at it, her throat bared to him as she tilted her head back, the movement sending her hair waterfalling over her back in a chocolate colored, silken spill.

“What are you looking for?” He watched her, coming to stand behind her, and slid his arms around her waist, leaning his face on her small shoulder.

She leaned her frame against him, her knees wobbling slightly still, “The stars. You wrote to me of watching the stars when you couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to see them.”

“Oh. Not from there.” Gently he guided her with warm, strong hands to his bed, and he climbed onto it, sitting on his knees in the middle of the bed, and then tugging on her hand. She went willingly, crawling towards him until he held her in front of him, pulling her body to his until they were pressed together, tilting her chin up when his calloused fingers slid beneath it, “Here. I saw them from here.”

Twinkling stars studded the blue velvet expanse of the night as she looked upwards, her eyes reflecting the light in a swirl of blue as she looked at him, “So when you couldn’t sleep you watched the stars and wrote me letters?”

“And did… other things.” Despite their earlier coupling on the desk, the evidence of which was scattered across his office floor, he blushed pink, the tops of his cheeks warming under her gaze.

“Someday… I’m going to want to watch that.” A brow lifted at his confession, and she grinned impishly up at him.

“Really?” Cullen’s blush deepened, although he had to admit he was intrigued by the idea, and his eyes sparkled with interest.

“Yes. Really.”

“I want to watch you then.”

“You just did. You owe me one.” A hot blush darkened her cheeks as she looked up at him, her fingers toying with the ties on the shirt she wore.

“Touché. I owe you a show then.” He grinned at her, through his blush, before looking upwards at the stars again, “Mostly I sat up here and thought about you. Worried about you.”

Her smirk faded as she looked at him, face turned up to watch the stars in the sky, a lump forming in her throat as her heart beat against her ribs so hard it ached. Or maybe it was just her want of him that made her heart ache, “I thought of you every time I watched the sunrise. Which was often, I always asked for the last watch.”

“You did?” He barely breathed the words out, unable to believe that she was here, in his bed, confessing what felt like something deeper to him. He barely dared to hold on to hope, but he couldn’t help himself, his heart thrummed in his chest suddenly.

“Just so I could watch the sunrise. You promised me that dawn would come, that first night. So I started watching for it.” She nodded, looking down from the sky to his gaze once more, hers bright with an emotion, sparkling with it.

“Talise I…”

“Cullen…”

The spoke at the same time, and both blushed, Talise turning a dark pink as she fidgeted with the hem of his shirt where it hung over her thighs.

“What is it Talise?” One calloused hand reached for hers, curling around her fingers and holding onto her hand.

“I… I…” her teeth sunk into her lip, and she paused, standing on the precipice between confessing everything, and holding back, “Can’t say the words again.”

Even as his heart clenched a little as she backed down, he could see the answer shining in her eyes, and he reached for her, curling his arms around her, “I won’t make you say them. If you don’t feel like…”

“No. No Cullen, that’s not what I meant. And this wasn’t a one time thing for me, and I have no idea what I’m doing, if you can’t tell.” she babbled, wincing as the words came out in a rush.

“Shhh..” he leaned forward, capturing her lips with her in a tender kiss, “Do you want to know something? That first night, when I watched Varric take you to your room, after you had cried in the chapel, I wanted to make you leave. I wanted to take you and hide you somewhere safe, until all this is over.”

She said nothing, her breath caught in her throat, her sky touched gaze wide and too large for her face as she stared at him.

“There isn’t anywhere safe, until this war is over. But I wanted to, so badly.” He paused, taking a deep breath, “All I’ve done and all I’ve seen, and I never wanted to protect someone as badly as I want to protect you. It’s been years since I even thought about someone in my life.”

A burn of tears clogs her throat, and her eyes gleam with them, spilling out onto her smooth cheeks when she blinks, sliding down her skin, “Cullen…”

“The way you say my name. It makes my heart ache.” He smiles at her, tugging her to him, until she is tucked beneath his chin once more, slowly he eased back onto the pillows, taking her with him until she was curled tightly against his chest, the fingers of his free hand curling around hers.

“I love you” the whispered words hung in the air, and she holds her breath, waiting to hear them back.

“Maker’s breath.. I never thought I’d hear you say them.”

“I love you”, she grew bolder then, lifting her head from his chest and pressing a kiss to the scar that ran down to his lips, “I love you Cullen. I think I have since I saw you that first night.”

“The moment you came out of the shadows, you had my heart. You will always have it.” His calloused hands trembled slightly as he cupped her face in them, “I love you.”

Sometime in the morning, just as the dark sky started the inevitable fade to sunrise, Talise’s eyes popped open, alert as Cullen jerked beside her. He twitched again in his sleep, murmuring words as she sat up, shoving her dark hair back away from her face. She was exhausted, they had slept little; reaching for each other over and over, she had woken up to his hands cupped around her breasts, his lips at her ears, later she had slid her fingers down his taut stomach and toyed with his cock until he woke up aching and had reached for her with a hungry gleam in his eyes. Sleep fled her quickly as she realized Cullen was dreaming, and just as her fingers reached for him, sliding over his stubbled jaw, he jerked himself away, his golden eyes flying open as he half sat up.

“Bad dream?”

Cullen nodded, panting slightly and laying back down, covering his eyes with one muscled forearm, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather be woken up than you suffer with a bad dream”, she leaned up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, feeling his muscles tremble as she did, “What do you need?”

“You. Just you.” In one movement he rolled to his side and pulled him to her, rearranging her arms and legs until one leg hung over his hip, and her arms were wrapped around his neck, his head tucked into her shoulder.

Slowly she drew circles on his shoulders and back, feeling the knots of tension in his muscles there, and she leaned back enough to brush a kiss on his forehead, “You know what you need?”

“I just told you.”

“No. You need a back rub. A good one.” Gently she disentangled herself from him, making her way down the ladder and rummaging around in the bag Valissia had sent up. She grinned as she peeked inside of it, seeing all the mage had packed for her, fresh underthings, the lacy ones Talise favored, a clean pair of leggings, a shirt, a comb and brush, a couple vials of her favorite bath oils, soap, and gleaming in a bottle was a bottle of oil, unscented. Talise mixed a few drops of the elder flower and oakmoss oils into it, knowing they would help ease his tired muscles, and climbed the ladder back up.

Cullen had rolled onto his stomach as soon as Talise had left, listening to her rummage around in her bag, and he sleepily grinned at her as she slid back into bed, “Remind me to thank Valissia for her foresight when I see her next.”

“I think not having a grouchy roommate will be thanks enough.”

“Have you been fighting with Valissia?”

“No. I’ve just been…. More temperamental than usual.” She poured some of the oil into her palms, and rubbed her hands together, warming the oil before she touched him.

“Why?” As he asked the question, Talise slid her hands over his shoulders and down his back, digging into the tired muscles there, and he let out of a groan, burying his golden head into a pillow, “Maker…”

“Why what?” She smirked at his words, her nimble fingers finding each sore muscle and digging into them, her fingers sliding over his skin.

“I have forgotten what I asked about” his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he looked over his shoulder at her.

“I’m so good at this you’ve forgotten your questioning?” she laughs, working her way down his back, pressing into the sore muscles and rubbing gently.

He groans again, burying his face in the pillow. When she leaned into him, reaching back up towards his shoulders, her felt her stomach, felt her breasts graze his back, and in seconds he was hard again, throbbing against the mattress. But what she was doing with her hands, working out the sore muscles knotted by stress and tension, felt wonderful, and he was content to lay in the bed, “You’re my weakness, I can’t pretend that you’re not anymore.”

At his words, she paused, her fingers stopping their pleasurable work. A smile curved her lips, and she leaned forward, brushing her lips gently against his ear, “You’re mine. I watch you at meetings and my knees get weak.”

Cullen smiled at his words, his warm honey eyes closing as her fingers picked up their pleasurable work. She stayed where she was, perched on his back, her legs folded on each side of his hips, rubbing his muscles until the oil was rubbed into his skin. The bed shifted as she moved, reached for the bottle and she poured more oil into her palm, setting the bottle down and then starting to work on one of his arms. His lashes flickered as he looked up at her, and then his gaze followed her hands, watching her fingers as she dug into the muscles of his upper arm, and then his forearm. When her slick fingers started rubbing circles on his palm, and then rubbing each individual finger, until his hand was relaxed on the bed, he groaned, letting his head drop onto the bed once more.

By the time she finished his other arm and hand, his skin was tingling. He was relaxed, laying stretched out on his bed, as much as he was aroused, and he raised one hand to catch one of hers, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm, “You have extremely talented hands.”

“Part of the job. Pick locks, pick pockets, rifle through people’s secrets, give good back rubs” she smirked as she stretched out on her side against him, one hand lazily trailing up and down his back.

He laughed, rolling to his side to face her, and then leaning over her, capturing her fingers in his, bringing them to his lips. Tender kisses were pressed into her palm, and he nipped at her finger tips, watching as chills broke out across her skin, “Are you always so sensitive?”

It took her a moment to respond, her eyes growing hazy with arousal as he kissed and nipped and bit his way across her hand and up the inside of her arm, “I don’t know. This doesn’t generally happen.”

“I see…” he lips trailed over her shoulder, and then up to her ear, where his teeth sunk in with more force than he had nipped at her fingers. She gasped and arched, her body rubbing against his, “You smell like me.”

“It’s from the oil.”

“Hmmm.. and from sleeping in my bed.”

“That too. I’m going to have to take a bath later on.”

“No”, his lips skimmed over one breast, nuzzling into the soft curves, his tongue licking a hot trail over her nipple, making her gasp, “Stay like this.”

“People will talk.”

“You’ve been up here since last night, if they’re going to talk, let them talk about something worthwhile”, he groaned as his fingers coasted over the folds between her legs. She was swollen, tender from the previous time, but she was already slick with want, coating his fingers as they ghosted over her skin, “How is it that I want you again already?”

“I give good back rubs.” Her hips arched into his hand, pressing herself harder against him, her feet sliding across his bed.

“You do. And you whimper my name, and you wrap yourself around me, and you’re so incredibly wet. And tight” he cursed, his eyebrows coming together as he slid two fingers into her depths, his thumb rubbing over her clit.

“Cullen…”

“That, right there. That’s what I like to hear” he grinned wickedly, leaving her breasts and trailing his tongue over her ribs, down her stomach, his shoulders spreading her thighs apart.

“Cullen” his name was almost a whine as he slid down her body, her back arching from the bed and towards his mouth.

“Next time you say my name”, with one hand he spread her legs further, leaning in to drag his tongue over her, flicking it against her clit, “…… Scream it.”

Talise had both hands pressed to her mouth, trying to keep her moans and whimpers contained as he continued to lick her folds, his fingers sliding in and out of her body. One of his large hands slid down her leg, lifting it over his shoulder, lifting her hips up from the bed and towards his mouth. It was just a few licks, just a few passes of his tongue over her clit, and she was screaming, her back arching from the bed as her vision went white. Spasming around his fingers, her hands fell from her mouth and she screamed his name, her fingers digging into the sheet and anchoring her to the bed.

He was drunk on her, Cullen was sure. The taste and feel of her had gone to his head. He groaned as she screamed, uncaring that anyone awake in the keep, and close to his quarters, could hear her. Once she relaxed on the bed, her thigh falling from his shoulder, he held it in place with his hand, continuing his pleasurable work. Talise moaned above him, her hands sliding down to his head, her fingers curling around the hand that held her thigh in place, the other fingers sliding into his hair. At the same time he sucked her on her clit, his amber gaze drifted up her body, her head was thrown back, hair in wild disarray across the bed, and her eyes were shut. She whimpered, her hips pressing against his mouth and fingers, and he groaned in response, pressing his hips into the mattress beneath them, rubbing his swollen length against the bed, desperate for any relief, at the same time he brought her to another peak.

Her throat was hoarse when she cried out this time, and broke. Small toes slid against the sheets as writhed on the bed, squirming underneath his hands, her hips pushing against his while she squeezed his fingers so hard he could not move them within her. When she relaxed on the bed, panting, he was sitting on his knees between her splayed thighs, one hand on his swollen cock, stroking it in sure, but slow movements, his eyes hungry as they watched her.

For a moment she merely watched, his calloused hand sliding up and down his length, and her lips parted on a sigh. The next time his hand moved up his length, she moved, sitting up and he reached for her with his hand. She moved to her knees, as he stretched his legs out in front of him, and once he was settled, she straddled his hips, her arms curling around his shoulders, her fingers sliding into his hair and running through it.

Cullen’s eyes slid closed, and he leaned back on his arms when she played with his hair, a groan rumbling from his chest. His hips pressed against hers, almost frantic with the need for release, and Talise whimpered, answering his motion with hers. Just as he would give in, and plead with her, small fingers wrapped around his length, and Talise leaned her head down to look, watching as she positioned his length against her opening. Her eyes lifted to his, holding his amber gaze with her summer bright one, as she sunk down onto his length.

Strong, powerful hands wrapped around her thighs, lifting her slightly, and Talise squealed when he wrapped her legs around his waist. She slid lower onto his cock, he was deeper than he had been, and she could barely breathe for a moment. The position meant she couldn’t move much, but she started to rock and squirm against him, whimpering as she did so. Cullen groaned, burying his face in her shoulder, his large hands cupping the curves of her ass and holding her to him, his hips started to lift from the mattress, pushing deeper inside of her.

“Talise, I’m not going to last long…” he groaned out the words, pushing into her in small movements, rocking her body gently with each thrust.

“Me neither…” she was too sensitive still, and already she was shuddering, losing their rhythm, only to gain it again when he pulled her to him. Her nails raked down his back, digging into the muscle and leaving deep furrows.

“Maker… you’re so tight…” he groaned the words, pushing into her harder, while tugging her to him, hissing in pain as she dug her nails into his back.

“Cullen…” she whined the words out, her legs shaking. She could feel her slickness leaking from her, wetting the tops of her thighs each time their bodies pressed together, “You’re so deep.. I can’t..”

“I’ve got you… let go love…” he murmured the words in her ear, nipping at her skin and then sucking skin marked by his teeth into his mouth. He continued to rock her onto his length in slow, steady surges, pulling her to him as his hips pressed into hers from the mattress. When she started to shudder, he moaned, feeling her tighten around his length, and he pulled her hips to hers, burying his length inside of her.

When he was as deep as he could possibly go, it tipped her over the edge, and she trembled in his arms, her body squeezing around his length in deep, rhythmic pulls, whimpering his name. Cullen responded to it, lifting his hips up from the mattress and pressing hard into her, his eyes closing as his climax overtook him. Long moments later, Talise lifted her head from his shoulder, her body shaking with aftershocks, and gently Cullen kissed her, his lips lingering over hers as he moved, tipping her back onto the mattress. Once he settled onto it beside her, he wrapped a muscular arm around him, pulling her small frame to his, and wrapped his fingers around hers, pressing kisses to the scar that ran across the back of her hand, silvery in the light filtering in through the open spot in his roof.

“Does it always feel that way?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. Already small bruises and scrapes dotted her neck and shoulders, proof of Cullen’s affections.

The sight brought a smile to his lips, and he shook his head no, “No. Never. I have never felt this way about anyone. And it has never been like that before.”

Grinning, she buried her face in his shoulder, burying her face in his chest. One slim leg tangled with his, and she curled up against his side. The arm around her back tightened, pulling her to him, and he sighed, his golden lashes falling closed, “Will you stay with me Talise?”

“As long as you want me here.” A soft kiss was pressed to his muscled chest, and she rested her head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Forever. I want you here forever.” Sighing, Cullen relaxes back onto the mattress, smiling as his breathing evens and he drifts off to sleep. He still dreamt through the last of the night, but every time he jerked awake, or shifted uneasily in his sleep, Talise was there.  She whispered to him, promising her love to him, her loyalty, telling him how much she admired him. Uncaring of the whispers and gossip that would await them in the morning, Talise stayed with him, falling asleep, and waking only when Cullen needed her, staying pressed against his frame through until well after the sun had rose.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm so sorry for the long time in updating. I suffered from Too Much Storyline Syndrome, followed by Must Stay True to Canon At All Times Illness. It took several weeks for me to figure everything out.**

**Thanks to Kat, for reminding me that this is -my- story, and to write it in what ever order, with what ever storyline I see fit. And for kicking my ass when I struggle with homeschooling.**

**This is for Tara. Because Alistair is your favorite. And because I'm fairly certain we have giggled over Alistair and Cullen's endowments at least once. You're an awesome person and Mama, and never let anyone tell you otherwise.**

**This is a fairly short chapter, but the next chapter or so I intend to fully fill out Talise's backstory. And then we'll start hunting red templars and Corypheus.**

 

Talise sat on the top of one of the towers in Skyhold, leather-clad legs dangling over the stone edge, leaning back on her arms. The wind toyed with the ends of her hair, whipping the chocolate dark, silken strands back and forth in the breeze as she almost motionless, her gaze tracing over the mountains before her.

“I knew I’d find you up here.” Amelia’s voice proceeded her steps, not quite as light as Talise’s, but she stepped quietly.

The assassin did not lift her sky-bright gaze, but kept it firmly locked on the mountains, “I thought you’d be in the library with Valissia”.

“We haven’t had much time together since I got here, I thought to come spend some time with you.” Amelia ran a hand over Talise’s head affectionately, looking out at the view before them, but also giving Talise plenty of space. Long years of friendship had taught Amelia that Talise craved space and quiet to think in, as much as she did affection.

After a moment, Talise scooted slightly over, leaving enough room for Amelia to sit with her in between two of the stone merlons atop the tower. The storm mage eased onto the edge, slipping her booted legs over and kicking them slightly, leaning over and looking at the drop, “Maker… that is a long drop.”

“It is..” Talise looked over at Amelia, her gaze inscrutable as always, hinting at secrets, but giving nothing away.

Heaving a sigh, Amelia leaned against one of the merlons atop the tower, “Alright, what is going on in that head of yours?”

“Lots of things”, Talise sighed, her head drooping as she spoke, her fingers twisting the ties on her shirt back and forth.

“Talise, you have the affection of a handsome man. We are safely tucked in this tower, and little by little, we are winning the war. What is going on?”, She was careful to keep her tone light, but Amelia did not look away from Talise, patiently waiting for the assassin to reveal what was bothering her.

“What happens after?”, Talise flicked her bright gaze to Amelia, and then looked back out at the mountains, her feet kicking gently back and forth as she did so.

“After is too long to think about. Focus on the here and now.”

“Who am I?”

Amelia blinked, her emeraldine eyes wide for a moment, “What do you mean?”

“Does he love me? Or does he love who I think I am?”, Talise barely spoke the words, barely breathed them out, as if speaking the words would give tangible life to her fears. Her gaze darkened as she spoke, her fingers twisting the ties on her tunic into small knots.

“Ahhhh… I see.” Amelia took a deep breath, nodding her dark golden head, “You’ve lived two separate lives for years now. And you’re having a hard time reconciling them.”

Talise cannot keep from wincing, as Amelia arrowed straight to the heart of her discontent, “Exactly. What if I put everything together, and he doesn’t love who I am?”

“Cullen isn’t some starry-eyed romantic with no understanding of how the world works little love. He knows what you do, knows how you do it. I don’t think that will happen.” Gently Amelia leaned over, nudging Talise with her shoulder for emphasis.

“And if it does?” the question seemed to hang in the air, Talise’s voice soft, but trembling with emotion at the same time.

“I’ll kill him”, Amelia grinned as she spoke, but there was meaning there. She would fully repay anyone who harmed Talise, or Valissia.

With an irritated snort, Talise turned to Amelia, a frown marring her features, “I’m serious Amelia.”

“So am I”, Amelia turned, pulling one leg up to her chest and letting the other dangle over the edge of the tower, “Your fears cannot keep you back. It is not healthy to keep everything so separate. I am Amelia, I am a Daughter of the Storm, I am a mage. I like candy and books. I am all of those things, all the time.”

“Chocolate is better than those sugar candy things.” Talise’s frown smoothed, but did not completely leave her features as she spoke.

Long tresses of gold and honey swayed as Amelia shook her head at her friend, “No. We’re not having that argument. Be all of you, all the time. That includes….”

“No. No. No. That belongs to Jordan.” Talise’s eyes widen and she shakes her head violently no at Amelia’s words, her skin turning even more pale than usual.

“Jordan is gone. He would not want that title to end. With it, you can protect all of us back home. Without it, we fall back on the mercy of the King.” Amelia waited for several moments before speaking again, until the shiver that shook Talise’s hands had passed.

“Alistair would not see us all torn from our homes.” Once more a frown wrinkled Talise’s forehead and drew her eyebrows together.

“Listen to me. Alistair is a good man, with a good heart. Who is surrounded by a bunch of men who will put their own wants and needs ahead of what is best for Ferelden. Nightreach is a prize now, a keep rebuilt by a bunch of commoners”, Amelia shook her head at Talise, gesturing towards the courtyard at Skyhold for emphasis, “Like here. Except here is up in the mountains. There is no protection for Nightreach.”

At Amelia’s words, Talise nodded, one hand rubbing at the spot in between her dark eyebrows, “The Couslands have been eyeing it since the Storm Raiders took it over.”

“Exactly. And that keep stood empty for hundreds of years. No one wanted it until we all rebuilt it. If you do not take the title Alistair gave Jordan, who knows who will claim it.” Amelia leaned back against the merlon opposite Talise, and rested her chin on her knee.

“Amelia, the landsmeet will never accept me.” Talise sighed, her fingers going back to tying the laces to her tunic shirt in knots again.

Sensing that she had the advantage, Amelia leaned forward, her gaze intense as she spoke, “Why not? The title is hereditary, you are the last living Montgomery. Alistair made Jordan a Bann. And now Jordan is gone. Does he have any children we do not know about?”

Talise shook her head no, twisting her hair into a loose knot and leaving it on the base of her neck, “I have looked everywhere, but no. Either he was extremely careful, or extremely lucky.”

“Then you’re it Talise. You are the rightful Bann, and it’s time for you to take your place.” Even as she spoke, Amelia moved to sit behind Talise, combing her fingers through the assassin’s dark hair with gentle affection.

“You’re ignoring I’m also the Ghost of Ferelden.” Talise answered darkly, her gaze going back to the mountains.

“Talise, you can be both. You can be the Ghost of Ferelden and Bann. You can be Talise and Ghost…” Amelia continued to run her fingers through Talise’s hair, gently working tangles out of the dark, silken strands.

“You can be Ferelden and Rivaini”, Valissia’s voice interrupted Amelia’s, the redheaded mage walking with a fair amount of caution towards the other two women, “Andraste’s knickers… do you have to sit on the highest point in the keep?”

“Highest point is actually the Herald’s room, I believe.” A cheeky grin curled Amelia’s lips as she looked over her shoulder at Valissia.

“We are not talking about the balcony in Christopher’s quarters. We are talking about Talise. Amelia is right Talise, it’s time for you to be all of you, at the same time.” Valissia shook her head no as she eased down beside Amelia, keeping her feet well from the edge of the tower wall. As always, she was perfectly dressed, her fiery tresses twisted up in to a braid on the top of her head.

“Jordan was both Ferelden and Rivaini when he swore fealty to Alistair and took the title of Bann. Our fathers were all mercenaries, and they were knighted.” Amelia nodded in agreement to Valissia, leaning back against the spirit mage.

“After dying at Ostagar.” There is a bitterness to Talise’s words that she could not hide, even a decade after the loss of her father.

Amelia sighed and bit her tongue for a moment, her fingers continuing their gentle path through Talise’s hair, “If Alistair wills it, the landsmeet will accept you as Bann. It’s not like you’re proposing marriage to Alistair.”

“I think if Alistair stood up and willed it, they would accept you as his Queen.” Valissia leaned her forehead against Amelia’s shoulder, sighing as she did so.

“That’s going a bit far. Princess-Consort maybe.” Amelia grinned, her shoulders shaking with laughter she tried to keep hidden.

“Why on earth are we talking about me marrying Alistair?” Talise turned, her eyes wide as she looked at the two mages, who both looked back at her, wearing matching grins.

“We got side-tracked.” Amelia grinned unrepentantly.

“And you’ve seen him naked.” Valissia added, biting her lip as soon as she said the words. The story surrounding Talise getting proof of a rebellion with Ferelden to Alistair had grown into near myth in the two years since it happened; but she loved nothing more than to needle the assassin about the true details.

“Just because I saw him naked, once, means he’s suitable for marriage?” Even the knowledge that her friends were distracting her from her thoughts with talk of Alistair, did not keep the exasperation from Talise’s voice.

“Ooooh!! I’ve always wondered. Is he…” Amelia let the sentence hang, holding her fingers just an inch or so apart.

“No. He’s hung like a damn horse.” The battle between irritation and amusement ended quickly, and Talise snorted, starting to giggle as she answered Amelia.

At Talise’s response, Amelia sighed theatrically, “Of course he is. Handsome. Well-endowed. It’s not fair.”

“You have Michel.” Valissia laughed, her shoulders shaking with mirth at Amelia’s overwrought, and faked sigh.

She shook her head no as she spoke, looking over her shoulder at Valissia, “I don’t have Michel. We take walks together. And he brings me books.”

“And you tied a pink hair ribbon around the hilt of his sword yesterday morning, and called it a favor. Don’t think I didn’t see you.” Talise smirked, rising to her feet with an effortless sort of grace, her movements sending her dark hair tumbling down her back in disarray.

“Have you and he??” Valissia lifted a dark auburn brown at Amelia in question, her stormy eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“No. I am still as pure as the driven snow.” Amelia frowned in irritation, “He wants to court me. Wants to do things right.”

“And you?” Talise held a hand down to Amelia, and pulled the storm mage to her feet.

Amelia’s green gaze darted to the courtyard, where the object of her lust was training soldiers, “Do you think if I showed up in his quarters naked he would make his move?”

“Iron Bull suggested Talise do that to Cullen once.” Valissia laughed, dusting her skirts off as she stood.

“Ooh!! Speaking of Cullen... is he….?” Distracted from the slowness of her growing relationship with the Orlesian chevalier, Amelia turned to Talise, holding her fingers apart for emphasis, clearly wanted more details.

Talise burst into giggles, shaking her head at her friends, who now both regarded her with the same curious gaze, “Amelia! You’re incorrigible! I am not discussing my private life with you. Or Valissia.”

“It’s not far you know, you’re both with someone, and I don’t get details.” Amelia’s gaze slid back to Michel, although from her spot on the tower he was a tiny figure, she watched him with an avid look that gave away her thoughts.

“Have you at least experienced what it is Orlesian’s do with their tongue that is so popular yet?” Talise grinned at Amelia, enjoying it as she turned the tables on Amelia.

“He’s hinted at it. But he hasn’t done it yet.” Amelia gritted out the words, raking a hand through her golden tresses. She had been escorted back to the room she shared with Talise and Valissia, although neither of them was in it frequently, many times, her lips swollen from kisses, her hair mused from the chevalier’s fingers, her body aching for his touch. Every time though, he had kissed her gently one more time, and tucked her safely within her room, “Can being deprived of a man’s affections drive you insane?”

“Poor thing.” Valissia giggled, her cheeks heating in a blush, “And no. You won’t go crazy. Talise gets irritable though. Before her and Cullen… I could not stand to be around her.”

“Hush it. Both of you” The smile she wore took the bite out of her words, and Talise walked to the steps that lead out of the tower.

“I will say it again… it’s not fair.” As Amelia stuck her hand in her pocket, her fingers brushed against a letter, and she remembered why she had come up to the abandoned tower, looking for Talise. The humor and mischief in her sparkling green gaze darkened, and she withdrew the folded letter, “I got a letter from Patrick this morning. You need to read it.”

Her summer bright gaze, always so perceptive, took in the darkening of Amelia’s features, and Talise reached for the letter, gently unfolding it. Her own features collapsed into a frown as she reads the words, holding the parchment so Valissia can read the letter over one shoulder, “Maker’s hairy balls. Why this? Why now?”

“You know why. You’re here. The Couslands have been wanting the keep and land since the Storm Raiders took it over and rebuilt all of it.” Valissia answers Talise, cursing under her breath as she takes the letter from Talise and re-reads it, “So Fergus and Tegan Guerrin have been to Nightreach Hold. They’re planning something.”

“And that something puts Nightreach Hold under the control of either Highever, or Redcliffe.” Talise’s gaze darkened and she scowled at the letter, as if the parchment had personally offended her. The idea that her home, the home her father and his men had rebuilt from ruins, turning it into a home for all their children and men, being threatened, provoked a dark anger from the assassin.

Amelia nodded in agreement, gesturing down to the letter Valissia held, “You have been avoiding this for months. But if you want to live a whole life, you cannot ignore this any longer.”

“And it’s time Talise. You need to pull all the pieces of your life together”, Valissia resting her cheek on Talise’s shoulder, curling an arm around the assassin’s waist, “This is part of your life.”

“Fine. Valissia, can you go find Christopher? The Herald and his advisors need to know what is going on.” Talise’s gaze lifted to Cullen’s quarters, and she heaved a sigh, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “I had hoped to explain this to Cullen before I made a decision.”

“Jordan worked with him at the Conclave, and at Haven. I’m sure he knows little love”, Amelia followed Talise’s gaze, stepping up to stand beside her friend, “He probably did not say anything out of concern for you.”

“It would be nice to talk about this with him before hand.” Her booted feet stay where she stood, suddenly rooted to the stones of the rampart.

“Then stop keeping so many secrets Talise”, Amelia turned, stepping back down the stairs towards the main hall of the keep, her fingers tugging through her hair, pulling at the tangles within her golden strands.


	10. Chapter 10

It took over an hour to get the Herald and his advisors into the war room, along with Valissia and Amelia. Michel stood behind Amelia, the storm mage having walked in with him, ignoring the pointed look of curiosity from her friends. Valissia, Amelia and Michel stood closer to the doors, while Talise stood next to Christopher, across the war table from the advisors. Despite the length of time it has taken, Talise had been unable to get a moment alone with Cullen; and the realization that he was going to learn what the letter contained, and what it meant for Talise, along with everyone else, made Talise’s heart twist on itself.

The letter from Amelia’s brother sat on the war table, everyone had read it and passed it around as Talise had spoken. In return for saving Alistair’s life during a small skirmish against darkspawn, Jordan had been rewarded with a title. Nightreach Keep, the aging fortress rebuilt by the Storm Raiders in the years before the Blight, and the land around it, was given to Jordan, with the full support of the freeholders living there, and Jordan was raised to a Bann. Jordan, in return, had sworn fealty directly to King Alistair himself, and the bann answered to only the King. Alistair had left the keep; run by Amelia’s brother Patrick, to its own devices, and it was now a thriving, fortified keep. The freeholders, mostly descendants of the Storm Raiders and their families, were fiercely loyal to the Montgomery siblings.

“Jordan died with no heirs”, Josephine finished, leveling a calculating gaze at Talise across the war table.

The assassin shook her dark head in answer, her eyes tracing over the Ferelden side of the map, “None. I searched everywhere for a child, I felt the title should go to even an illegitimate child of Jordan’s first.”

“I questioned Jordan about that when he came to the Conclave, what would happen if he had no heirs to pass the title to”, Cullen’s warm amber and honey gaze lifted from the map to Talise as he spoke, “He made a joke about saddling his sister with it. I had no idea at the time he meant you.”

“That sounds just like him”, a smile lifted Talise’s lips, but her gaze stayed locked on Cullen. She had rarely taken her eyes from him as she spoke, fear shining in her gaze the entire time. Revealing her secrets left her feeling raw, and as much as she disliked feeling vulnerable, she was terrified that Cullen would turn away from her.

Cullen’s heart squeezed hard every time he saw the fear in her gaze. It was the same look she had worn the morning she faced judgment from Christopher, and it had hurt him to see it then; but now it was painful to meet her gaze. He knew she was waiting for his anger, for his condemnation, and despite his frustration with her ability to keep secrets, he knew he could not be angry with her. Her world had exploded when the Conclave did, and she was trying to pick up the pieces. There was no way, in the middle of the war room, to explain his feelings to her, even as he knew he needed to tell her.

“Why is the Arl of Redcliffe and the Teryn of Highever suddenly so interested in a small Bann on the coast?”, Leliana mused, her fingers running over the spot where Nightreach Hold stood, almost exactly halfway between Highever Caste and the city of Amaranthine.

“The keep stood abandoned, the land left fallow, for hundreds of years. It’s been rebuilt, there are farms there, the keep itself holds a considerable number of men-at-arms”. Bright eyes traced over the map as Talise spoke.

Christopher nodded in agreement to Talise’s words, “It’s a fully fortified and stocked keep, surrounded by arable land and pastures. Any lord would want it.”

“Is that why Alistair raised Jordan to a bann like he did? To offer protection?”, Josephine was writing furiously as the others spoke, making notes to read over later.

“In part. Both Fergus Cousland and Tegan Guerrin had been around, snooping, a few times since Alistair was crowned. The Keep technically belonged to Amaranthine, but the Warden-Commander had relinquished all claim to it. Which made it a keep pretty much owned and supported entirely by free-holders”, Talise raked a hand through her loose hair, and heaved a deep sigh. Once more, her summer bright gaze lifted to Cullen, and she chewed on her lip, the movement betraying her nerves.

“And that was something the nobles in Denerim would not tolerate for long.” Cullen mused, his fingers tracing over the coastline of Ferelden. When he looked up from the map, his warm honey gaze caught Talise’s bright one, and he smiled, the scar that cut down to his lip lifting as he did. She was still the same women he had come to know, through letters and talks and long nights spent in his room, she still sucked the air from his lungs when she walked into the room, and made his knees weak when she smiled.

“By swearing fealty to Alistair directly, that meant that all threats against it would be answered directly by the King.” Leliana could not help the smile that curled her mouth, the maneuvering that Jordan had done was impressive. The lengths the fallen warrior had gone to spoke to his skill in maneuvering the politics of Alistair’s court, as well as his love for his younger sister, now standing across the war table, “Thus placing Nightreach out of the reach of anyone else. It was a brilliant move on your brother’s part.”

Josephine nodded, sighing as she looked across at Talise, “But now… unless an heir steps forward, it would revert back to a royal holding. And from there who knows.”

“I do not think Alistair would let it fall into the hands of someone who would strip it to nothing” Valissia spoke then, as she stepped forward to stand behind Talise, “It’s my home too, Talise shouldn’t have to carry this alone.”

“I don’t either. Alistair is an honorable man.” Cullen drummed his gloved fingers against the table, as he nodded in agreement with Valissia.

Without taking his eyes from the map, Christopher stretched a powerful arm out, slid it around Valissia’s waist, and drew the flame-haired mage to his side, “None of you will carry this burden alone. The Inquisition can station soldiers there, as protection.”

“No. That will be interpreted poorly in Denerim. The nobles would be able to declare it an act of war.” Josephine shook her head emphatically.

“We cannot leave Nightreach unprotected and vulnerable. Without anyone claiming the title, it is in flux, and the nobles in Denerim will not let that stand for long”, Christopher argued, frustration evident in his features.

“I agree. Talise is an agent of the Inquisition, as are Valissia and Amelia. We would respond this way if Horsemaster Dennet’s home was threatened”, Cullen added, his gaze tracing over Talise. He wanted to do what Christopher had done with Valissia, to pull Talise to him. She had struggled with this part of her life since setting foot in Skyhold and learning of Jordan’s death. In the dark of night, when she cried in the chapel, he had learned that Talise was next in line for Jordan’s title, and that she was afraid of taking it. She would be thrust out of the shadows, and into the court at Denerim, leading a motley crew of fiercely loyal freeholders. This time, Cullen knew there was no place to take her, to hide her from the responsibilities she faced, and his heart ached as Talise’s shoulders drooped, and she buried her face in her hands.

“No. It would be seen as outright aggression on the part of the Inquisition. My agents in Denerim tell me that the nobles grow more uneasy with the Inquisition working in Ferelden every day.” Leliana shook her head, sighing as she looked at Talise, “I’m sorry Talise, I know you do not want the title, but there is little choice.”

“I either take it or the keep and everyone in it is at risk. My father and his men built that keep back up from the ground. They died to protect it. I will burn it to the ground before I let it fall into the hands of some pampered, spoiled noble who would strip of it everything we’ve worked for”, Talise spoke the words, her eyes glittering with determination and a rush of anger.

“That’s my girl”, Amelia smiled from her spot, resting one pale golden cheek against Michel’s shoulder. The Orlesian chevalier stood quietly, his steely gaze following the conversation, but returned to Talise; so much hinged on her actions, and the weight seemed too much to carry for the small-statured assassin, even supported by her friends.

“Talise, if Alistair swore that he would protect the bann and the keep, and the people within it, holding it in trust until you decide what to do, would that work?” Michel spoke then, his accent thickening his words.

“Maybe. Tegan and Fergus have Alistair’s ear though, and he may well listen to them at some point in time. Alistair is a good man, with the best of intentions, but he has surrounded himself with men who do not always act in his best interest, but their own”, Talise looked over her shoulder, smiling gratefully at Michel.

“In addition, the nobles are afraid of Talise. They made the mistake of using the same assassin in their plots and schemes against one another, and now she knows all their secrets. They might look for any opportunity to weaken her”, Leliana spoke, her icy gaze tracing over the map and then lifting to Michel, “Alistair is an honorable and good man, at heart. I knew him during the Blight. But he is leading how others want him to, not how he should.”

“Well then, I think we had best prepare for Talise’s departure for Denerim”, Michel responded, a smile lifting his lips, “You’ll be Bann Talise when you return.”

“It won’t be any time soon” Josephine interrupted, looking up from the notes she had written, “According to Ferelden custom, Talise must present herself to Alistair and announce her intention of claiming the title. Although at present I think a letter would be acceptable. Terms must be negotiated, and once they’ve reached an agreement, then she will go to Denerim to swear fealty.”

“The terms will be the same as what Jordan had. I will swear fealty to only Alistair. I don’t trust Tegan and Fergus”, Talise’s bright gaze, surrounded by heavy lashes, glinted with stubbornness and determination.

“Lady Talise Montgomery” Valissia spoke then, testing the name, fighting back laughter, “It sounds ridiculous.”

“Oh Maker. I hate the sound of that”, Talise shivered, chills racing down her spine, “And this is saying the nobles will accept me.”

“They accepted Jordan.” Amelia had yet to lift her cheek from Michel’s shoulder, but her emeraldine eyes gleamed with intensity as she spoke, belying the softness of her stance.

“Jordan was not an assassin. And he was serving on the royal guard. He had saved Alistair’s life.” Talise arched an eyebrow at her friend as she looked at Amelia, her bright gaze flicking back to Michel’s face and then to Amelia’s. The open affection Amelia was showing the Orlesian chevalier had not gone unnoticed, although Talise was too occupied to address it now.

“So did you. The rebellion would have seen him dead and that twit Anora back on the throne”, Amelia retorted, finally lifting her cheek from Michel’s shoulder, the better to argue with her friend.

 “If it’s your heritage you’re worried about, they accepted Jordan. There are several Banns who are not pure Ferelden right now.” Valissia spoke from the comfort of Christopher’s side, blanching when she realized she has revealed another secret Talise has kept, “Andraste’s ass. I forgot no one knows.”

“Knows what?” Cullen spoke the words, but all three advisors looked at Talise, as did the Herald, questions evident in their gaze.

“Thank you Valissia, I appreciate it”, Talise shot Valissia dark look, before heaving a sigh, her slim fingers twisting the hem of her tunic shirt in her fingers. She did not look the part of nobility, a simple tunic, left untied, hung off one smooth shoulder, untucked over leather leggings and a pair of scuffed black boots, “My mother was from Rivain. The nobles must accept the half-Rivaini, daughter of a mercenary, who happens to be an assassin, if I’m to be bann.”

For a moment, the silence in the war room is deafening, and Talise winces, closing her eyes, her head bowing. She was aware that everyone was looking at her, and she ducked her chin, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark hair, the candlelight sending shimmering streaks of red through the tresses she was hidden behind.

“You don’t look Rivaini…” Christopher said bluntly, “And the Rivaini have tattoos, don’t they?”

“I favor my father’s side of the family, he was Ferelden. And I’ve never wanted to be tattooed, the needles they use are unsettling.” A shiver ran down Talise’s frame at the mention of the tattoos, chills breaking out across her smooth skin.

“You’re afraid of needles?” Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Cullen could not help but keep the smirk off his lips. Ferelden’s most feared assassin was afraid of needles, a very absurd thing to be fearful of.

Dressed as she was, short as she was, Talise was not intimidating, even as she glared at Cullen from behind a waterfall of dark hair, “I’m not afraid of them.”

“Yes, she is. She almost passed out when Jordan had that tattoo inked into his arm”, Valissia grinned at Talise from around Christopher’s arm, using the Herald as a shield from the assassin’s dark glare.

“Can we not talk about my fears and focus on the problem?” Talise gritted her teeth, “Are the nobles going to accept me, as I am, all of me? Or will this be for naught?”

Leliana shrugged, one shoulder lifting, “If they accepted Jordan, they likely yes. Also, if Alistair wills it, they will give. There is only one way to find out though.”

The glare faded from her face, and she heaved a sigh, her gaze turning back to the map once more, and the spot where the keep stood. In bringing together the sides of her life, she was giving up the mantle of Ghost of Ferelden, it would bring more danger to her family and friends, and those who would depend on her, “I need to write to Alistair and tell him of my intentions to claim the title and Nightreach.”

“If that is what you want to do, then yes.” Josephine nodded, writing down a small thought, “I will start planning for the event.”

“The Inquisition is going?” Cullen blinked once, twice, dark golden lashes obscuring his gaze for a moment, as he fought to hide his shock.

“I am going, for one. Talise is my friend, and I want to see her given her title”, Josephine smiled innocently up at Cullen, although mischief sparkled in her eyes, “I could take some time off to go see this ceremony.”

“As could I. I could leave the training of the Army in the hands of Michel.” As the realization of what Josephine was up to dawned on him, Cullen smiled. They could not openly attend the ceremony as members of the Inquisition, but they could all attend as her guests.

“Ahhhh. No. I think I would prefer to go as a guest. That is, if I am invited”, Michel smiled, shaking his head no at Cullen.

“I will need an escort to the ceremony.” Amelia grinned up at him, her bright green gaze colliding with his steel and blue one.

“As will Valissia”, as she watched the people in the room all figure out a way to come with her, a genuine smile had lifted Talise’s lips, making her eyes sparkle, “Lord Trevelyan, I believe the honor falls to you.”

“It’s settled then. We are all taking some… time off. At the same time”, Leliana chuckled, walking towards the doors of the war room.

“I will start on a plan for travel and accommodations along the way. I’m sure all the companions will want to attend. It’s not every day that an agent of the Inquisition is given a title by the King of Ferelden”, Jospehine was nearly giddy as she slipped out of the war room, walking with Leliana.

“Josephine”, Leiliana whispered the words as the ambassador sat down in her office, “We need to find out what is going on in Denerim.”

“You think Arl Tegan and Teryn Fergus are planning something?”, Josephine looked up from notes she had made during the meeting, her gaze alert and focused.

“Yes. And so do you, I can see it in your eyes. Something is going on, and we need to get to the bottom of it” The spymaster shook her head as she walked away, “See what you can find out, and I will do the same. Talise may be able to find out on her own, but we should do some… research as well.”

It took just a few moments for everyone to leave the room, but Talise lingered, running the tips of her fingers over the spot on the map that marked Nightreach Hold. Her eyes gleamed with a rush of emotion and affection for the improbable home she had, despite the circumstances surrounding it. She was aware of Cullen’s presence as he stepped up behind her, so close she could feel the chill from his breastplate, “How mad are you?”

Cullen said nothing for long moments, instead he simply looked at Talise, studying the soft features of her face, the waterfall of her hair, shining in the light, the scar that ran across the back of her hand, the curve of one shoulder, bared as the wide neckline of her tunic slid down over it once more. Frustration surged within him, and he breathed in deeply, trying to force it back down, “Your secrets make it hard to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection.” Long years of independence warred within Talise, fighting against her need for Cullen, and she glared up at him for a moment.

“Everyone in this castle needs protection. Corypheus and his agents will look for any opportunity to harm any of us. And you already have a long list of people who want revenge on you”, Cullen raked his gloved fingers through his hair in frustration, mussing the carefully combed strands as he did so.

“I’ve been protecting myself. And Valissia. And Amelia, for years now Cullen. I’ve been looking over my shoulder since I turned 18”, she protested, turning to look up at him, her gaze fierce with determination.

“I know that. And you’ve done a good job of it”.

“Then why are you so insistent that you have to protect me?”

“Because I was the one that stayed with you the first night you got here. I was the one holding you when you cried for your brother. I was the one that prayed with you. I was the one you wrote to, I was the one you came to when you got back.” His hands curled around his shoulders, powerful arms easily lifted her to her toes as he looked down at her, his own amber gaze dark with a rush of anger and frustration. It was not just anger that darkened his gaze, his feelings for Talise were obvious, as was fear.

All the fight fled Talise as she looked up at him, her fingers curling around his wrist, “Cullen…”

The words were tumbling out of him, everything he had held back for weeks now, months, “Because you came to me, bloody and bruised. Your blood stained my desk, I see it every day, did you know that?”

“No. I… I didn’t...” She shook her head no at his words, her sky touched gaze wide as she looked up at him.

“Your risks don’t just involve you anymore. I cannot lose you, not now. I am trying to protect you, and let you have your independence.”

“Are you… Are you scared?” As his words echoed in the war room around them, she whispered her response, suddenly aware of the burn of tears at the backs of her eyes, and a lump in her throat.

He paused then, looking down at her fingers curled around his wrists, his hands holding her shoulders still, and then into her eyes, swimming with emotion. In one motion he curled his arms around her, pulling her to him, until he could bury his face in her soft hair, “Maker’s breath. I worry every time you leave Skyhold.”

“I always come back. You’re carrying a heavier burden than I am.” She sighed, leaning into his embrace, burying her face in the fur mantle of his surcoat.

He said nothing, one hand holding the back of her head, gloved fingers tangled in her dark tresses, the other hand splayed over her back, holding her to him. His amber eyes slid closed as he rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in the smell of water lilies from her soap. Holding her in his arms, he resolved to stand in the war room for as long as possible, and ignore the consequences, there was nothing as important as keeping her in his arms, and keeping Talise with him for as long as he possibly could.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies on the late update. I'm forced to admit my updates will be far more chaotic than organized, I simply cannot find the time to write.
> 
> Also, Chapters 9-11 have not been beta'ed. I do not want to overwhelm my beta reader. If you're interested in beta reading for me, please let me know, I would welcome the help.
> 
> Story Notes: The developers have said very little about the country of Rivain. I've seen people speculate that it's based on southern Spain, and I took my cues from there. I've given Rivain an Andalusian feel to it, and I will develop that more in the chapters to come. Talise speaks Rivaini fluently, and I'm using Spanish for it.

 

Talise’s title, if Alistair would agree to the terms she had put forth, if she would go to Denerim to swear fealty, all of it was pushed to the back of Cullen’s mind. Shortly after the meeting in the war room, Talise had left with several of the companions to meet a Qunari war ship, and finish up Inquisition business on the Storm Coast. Her absence from his quarters, from the keep, made his heart ache, he found himself standing on the ramparts, gazing out past the bridge, looking for any sign of the assassin atop her mount often during the day. At night he slept little, but when he did, nightmares tortured him, and he awoke to an empty and cold bed each time.

There was a mountain of paperwork on his desk, and he was doing none of it, instead he stared at the drops of crimson blood staining the wood. When Talise had staggered into his office one night, arm sliced to the bone from a Venatori blade, she had bled on his desk, and drops of crimson had soaked into the grain of the wood. One gloved hand reached for the spots, proof that she had been here, that her presence in his life was not just the product of some lyrium-withdrawal dream, and traced over them gently.

A knock sounded on one of the doors to his quarters, and he sighed, “Come in.”

Valissia’s head came into view, her fiery hair twisted into a perfect, braided bun atop her head, but the dark circles around her eyes testified to how badly she was taking the absence of the Herald and her friend. The spirit mage was not sleeping any better than Cullen, and had frequently seen candlelight in his quarters as she walked the courtyard at night, “I….”

“Is something the matter Valissia?” He knew that Talise wrote to her, and for a moment his heart constricted, squeezing tightly as fear seized him.

“No, everything is fine. I’m just… lonely. I thought maybe I could talk you into a game of chess”, she stepped into his quarters, her stormy gaze going to the desk, and the spots of Talise’s blood.

For a moment Cullen thought of telling her no, that he had work to do, but one look at the mage’s face, her skin more pale than usual beneath a smattering of freckles, dark circles like bruises rimming her eyes, and he decided to ignore his work for the moment, “I could use the break.”

They played one game of chess in near silence, both letting the focus on the game take away the stress of having those closet to them gone. By the second game, they were talking back and forth, and by the third they were laughing at each other, making jokes and teasing each other. It was a badly needed respite for them both.

“We have much in common, you and I”, Valissia spoke, moving a piece across the board.

Cullen made a move as well, capturing a different piece on the board, “We do?”

She nodded as she moved another piece, her stormy gaze flicking over the board, “Yes. We’re always the ones getting left behind”

“How do you do it? How do you watch her leave all the time?” The mage’s words burrowed straight into Cullen’s heart, which beat painfully against his ribs for a moment. Talise had left while he was in a meeting, having said her goodbyes quietly in his quarters. The moment he had stood in front of his desk, realizing she was gone, had hurt more than he had expected, she left an ache that rivalled the lyrium withdrawals that plagued him.

“Well, I don’t love her like you do. I love her, but I don’t look at her like she’s the brightest star in the night sky”, from underneath a forest of dark auburn lashes, Valissia’s gray gaze watched Cullen carefully. Talise had been secretive, as usual, about her feelings, but she could read the commander far easier.

He flushed a deep pink at her words, his gaze dropping to the chessboard, “I wasn’t aware anyone saw the way I looked at her.”

“Anyone with half a brain and a working pair of eyes sees it Cullen. I understand why you were wish to keep it quiet, but know that you’re doing a poor job of it”, she smiled at him, sighing when he captured another piece, “Why did you have to take that one?”

“Because you beat me with it last time”, he smiled at her, his amber gaze warm with humor.

“Fine. Be that way”, she sighed, moving another piece on the board, “I know you’re not sleeping well again. I see the candles in your room at night.”

“Which must mean you’re awake to see them”, Cullen shot Talise a pointed look over the top of the chessboard, his amber eyes gleaming with knowledge.

Valissia flushed slightly, nodding at Cullen’s words, “Touché Commander. I’m not sleeping well either. When all of this over, I’m going to sleep for a week straight.”

“If I only I could sleep that long”, the dark circles around his eyes testified that his sleeping problems had started long before Talise had left, long before the assassin had ever set foot in Skyhold.

“Talise told me of your lyrium withdrawal”, her gray eyes were serious as she looked across the table at Cullen, “I may have some solutions for you. Or at least some things to help ease the symptoms. Which is why she told me, to try and help you.”

He said nothing for a moment, his amber eyes wide with the realization that Talise had confided in Valissia. He was torn, he had not exactly told Talise to keep it secret, but he was not prepared to find out that she had confided in someone, even her best friend. His words were stilted when he finally spoke, “Thank you Valissia.”

“My concern isn’t completely altruistic.” Her shoulders tensed briefly when he spoke, and she kept her tone deliberately light as she continued to study him from under the cover of her lashes.

“It’s not?”

“No. Talise is more herself, less of Ghost, when you are around. You’re good for her.”

He smiled, relaxing in his chair once more, Valissia was both trying to help him, and to help Talise at the same time. She would not use the knowledge of his struggles with lyrium against him. A smile curved his lips as he shook his head at her words, “No. She is good for me.”

“You are good for each other”, when Cullen relaxed, so did Valissia, and she propped her chin on her hand as she stared at the board. The commander had pinned her into a corner of the chessboard, again, a favorite move of his, and now that he was accepting of her knowledge, she was able to concentrate on the board. Her auburn brows drew together in a frown as she realized he was likely to beat her once again.

“You’re good for Christopher you know. I did not get to know him much before Haven, but he was struggling with the burden of the mark. And running things. He seems to have found some balance to his life”, Cullen spoke, gazing intently at the chessboard.

Valissia turned bright red at the commander’s words, the color deepening the smattering of freckles that topped her cheeks, “He’s not what I expected.”

“Neither was Talise. Something else we have in common”, he spoke, moving another piece and then taking one of hers.

“I am sorry for blurting out Talise’s heritage at a meeting. I know she wanted to tell you herself.” Valissia heaved a sigh as he took a piece of hers, she chewed on her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the board.

Cullen waited patiently as Valissia looked over the board, his amber eyes taking the spirit mage in. She was not as boisterous as Amelia, not as stealthily quiet as Talise, but she had the softest touch of any of them. He had to tell his soldiers to stop bothering the redhead with every ache and pain, she healed any complaint they had, and oftentimes left the infirmary too exhausted to walk. At her words he shook his head no, disagreeing with her, “It was not your fault Valissia. There are things I need to tell her about me.”

“I can’t imagine what Kinloch Hold must have been like. And I was in Kirkwall several times, I know how chaotic things got.” Valissia lifted her stormy gaze to his, sympathy evident in her gaze. She knew what had happened in Kirkwall, and as a mage, knew the horrors that had been unleashed within the tower better than most. Although she was afraid of the templars, and was often nervous around them, she trusted Cullen; she was also moved by her compassion, and an urge to make things better for anyone she knew, that included the commander.

Cullen nodded at her words, his fingers tightening around a chess piece for a moment, “Have you ever been in a circle?”

“No. My magic manifested itself when I was 10, and I stayed at Nightreach. The templars were not interested in battling the Storm Raiders, so they never came. I went to Rivain several times, and once Talise was… Ghost, I traveled with her.”  Tucking a loose strand of shimmering auburn hair behind her ear, she shook her head no at his words.

“It shouldn’t surprise me that Talise was in Rivain. She seems Andrastian, and then at the same time, she seems like she isn’t.” Cullen frowned at the chessboard, Valissia had managed to get out of the trap he had laid on the chessboard.

“We all absorbed much of the Rivaini beliefs, but for Talise, it came naturally.” With a triumphant grin, Valissia leaned back from the chessboard, watching the commander lean forward, his gaze sharp on the chessboard. For a moment a memory flickered to the surface, the hot nights in Rivain, the seers, answering never ending questions from three young girls. She had seen that same intent look Cullen wore, not on someone’s face in Rivain, but in a dream, or a memory of one.

Cullen nodded, even as he kept his gaze on the chessboard, studying it with a focus born of long years of training as a templar, “The Circles must be reformed. I’m not sure I even believe every mage should be in them.”

“Careful Commander, one might think you’re a heretic”, Valissia grinned at him, finally making her move. One final game, which Cullen won, and he went back to his office. He found it easier to concentrate, and over the next few days he found himself sitting across from Valissia several more times.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain on the Storm Coast was never ending. Talise had gotten used to being soaked to her skin by the time the day was done. This time though, she did not feel the cold rain soaking into her. She stood behind Christopher, and the Herald stood in between Iron Bull and Gatt, her bright gaze focused as she studied the coast.

A Qunari ship was supposed to meet them here, and they had just fought off a large group of Venatori agents. Talise slipped from her spot behind them, vanishing from sight and slipping off towards the forest behind them, intending to scout it one last time. Deep in conversation, no one saw her go, until Christopher looked over his shoulder at the companions, “Where is Talise??”

“She slipped back towards the forest, probably doing one last patrol”, Blackwall points towards the tree line, as the assassin comes back into view.

“By herself?” Varric frowns, following Blackwall’s hand back towards the trees, “Let’s not tell Curly about this part.”

“He’s going to have to learn to let her go”, Iron Bull rumbled in response, frowning as he scans the beach, studying the horizon for the Qunari dreadnought.

“Would you??” Varric looked over at Iron Bull, lifting a brow in question.

“If Iron Bull was in Cullen’s shoes, Talise would likely be tied to the bed while he was gone.” Varric grins wickedly as he watches Talise make her way back towards them.

Blackwall snorts a laugh, nodding in agreement, “With silken ropes.”

“How about we not talk about Talise tied to a bed”, Christopher spoke then, as he watched the horizon for the Qunari dreadnought.

“Would you prefer we talk about Valissia tied to a bed?” Iron Bull grinned, delighting in poking the Herald over the red-headed mage, “All that red hair, spread out over a silken pillow.”

Christopher frowned, shaking his head at the question, “No. Not any better.”

“They seem incredibly close” Iron Bull let the sentence dangle, grinning at Christopher.

“Are you inferring that the girls are…?” Blackwall lifted a dark eyebrow, barely able to contain his laughter.

“She’s going to kill you if she hears you talking about this you know”, despite his words, Varric laughed.

“If they do sleep together, I would kill to be the man in the middle of that”, Blackwall smirked.

“So would I.” Iron Bull nodded, folding his arms over his barrel chest, “A blonde, a redhead and a brunette. It’s the holy trifecta.”

“I’ll drink to that back at Skyhold.” Varric laughed, checking to make sure Bianca, his beloved crossbow, was loaded.

“Drink to what?” Talise appeared behind Varric, lifting a dark eyebrow in question.

“Ahhhh… getting warm again.” Christopher flushed lightly, his olive complex hiding the flush that creeps over his cheeks. The other companions burst into laughter at the Herald’s response.

Later the Herald and companions were deep in an argument with Gatt, the elf sent to them on behalf of the Qunari. Talise said nothing, but watched the argument intensify between the elf and the companions, stepping silently towards Iron Bull. She stopped just behind him, watching the horizon, the ship they were supposed to meet grew closer, and more Tevinter mages were gathering on the beach. Bull’s mercenaries, the Chargers, would be in danger soon, and a decision had to be made. When the Qunari mercenary looked at her, and she caught a glimpse of pain in his gaze, Talise stepped from around him, her chin lifting as she looked up towards the Herald.

“Christopher”, Talise spoke, waited a beat, and then repeated the Herald’s name, “The Chargers have been loyal to us since the beginning.”

“I know. But we lose the Qunari alliance if we save the Chargers.”

“Some things are more important than alliances Herald”, Blackwall spoke, his eyes dark as he watched the Chargers.

“You do this, you’ll be Tal Vashoth”, Gatt argued, pointing towards the Qunari ship, under heavy attack by Venatori mages.

“They’re my men” Iron Bull gritted the words out, his gaze dark as it bounced from the Chargers to the Qunari dreadnought.

Talise looked pointedly at Christopher, folding her arms over her chest, “Blackwall is right. Some things are more important than an alliance.”

Christopher nodded, heaving a sigh, “Call the retreat Bull. Save the Chargers.”

Talise started to walk towards the beach, unsheathing the daggers strapped to her back, when Iron Bull stopped her, laying a hand on her shoulder, “What are you doing Bull? We can fight through the Venatori and save any survivors.”

“There won’t be any survivors”, as Iron Bull spoke the words, the ship exploded, and he lifted a massive arm, shielding his face from the blast, while pushing Talise behind him with the other arm.

That night in camp, huddled around a fire as they tried in vain to dry out their gear, Talise sat next to Iron Bull. The Qunari warrior stared at the flames of the campfire, most quiet than usual, “Well hey there little love. I’m not good company right now.”

“If I wanted to sit with someone and hear them wax poetic, I’d be sitting with Varric”, Talise answered, bringing her knees up to her chest and propping her chin on one.

Iron Bull snorted a laugh at her comment, “You’re here to cheer me up then.”

She shook her head no at his words, keeping her gaze on the fire, watching the branches in it burn, “Nope. I’m here because I want to be here. Got a problem with me sitting here?”

“Let’s talk then. Does Cullen call you little love?” disbelief evident in his tone, Bull looked down at Talise, folding his massive arms over his chest.

She can feel the blush that crept up her face, staining her cheeks a dark pink, “No. He doesn’t. He calls me Talise.”

Iron Bull did not seem surprised by her words, “Ahhhh... that explains the attraction then.”

“What does?” Her brow furrowed at his words, and she looked up at him, her chin propped on her knees, long strands of hair cascading down around her back, light from the campfire making the strands sparkle with red and gold.

“You’re not the Ghost of Ferelden to him. You’re not Hale Montgomery’s daughter, Jordan Montgomery’s little sister, possible heir to a brand-new title.”

“I’m not that to everyone here too.” One slender arm lifted to gesture towards the group gathered around the fire. Varric was entertaining the Chargers and the other companions with a story, one of Hawke’s misadventures in Kirkwall.

“Yes, but you don’t look at Blackwall, or me, the way you look at Cullen. And he doesn’t look at anyone the way he looks at you. We all see it.” The Qunari warrior looked at the other companions, all listening spellbound to the surface dwarf. On any other night, he would be over there himself, laughing and talking, drinking too much ale; but tonight, things were too raw for the battle-hardened Reaver, and he had sat by himself.

She blushed again, her smooth cheeks turning a deep pink, “And we’re changing the subject.”

“Talise, I don’t care who you do what with. But do not think you are fooling anyone, sneaking off to his quarters during the day, or staying there in the night and slinking out in the morning. You, Amelia and Valissia share a room in the keep, yet only one person sleeps in that room most nights”, Iron Bull leans down, until his good eye is level with Talise’s bright gaze, “Valissia is with Christopher. Amelia lusts after Michel and he tucks her into bed with courtly manners and good intent. But you’re not in your bed at night, are you?”

The flush on her cheeks darkened further, and she chewed on her lip while looking up at the Qunari.

“You know, you’re bringing the pieces of your life all together. And Cullen is a huge part of that right now. But he’s not your salvation. Like I told you when you first got here, he’s not the sunrise. He just taught you to look for it”, Iron Bull stood, stretched his arms above his head, and then leaned down, dropping a massive arm around Talise’s shoulders affectionately, “Thanks for the distraction.”

“Sometimes doing the right thing is more important than who you swear loyalty to. I’ll stand beside you in any fight Bull”, she leaned into his arm, winding an arm around his neck for a brief hug.

“And I’ll block a sword for you any time you need it.” He let Talise go, and started to walk back towards the Chargers were sitting, “Got to get you back to the Commander in one piece.”

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, he was not quite sure exactly how, Cullen’s quarters had been overrun with the research Valissia was working on, and within a day she was joined by Amelia. The two of them read books, made notes, sometimes argued about different magical theories, spells that might work in different situations, and were occasionally underfoot. He was never lacking for company though.

In return, Valissia and Amelia were gaining an impressive understanding of how the army trained, battle tactics, and what it took to run the army. Several times they had pointed out different ways of doing things, a new way of approaching a problem. Amelia would nearly bounce in her chair, her blonde curls swinging around her face, until he acknowledged her, Valissia simply waited until a calm moment, but could argue her point with an equal intensity. They also had meals delivered to his quarters, and soon had someone assigned to clean his quarters while they forced him to play chess or take a walk through the garden.

“I sense Talise’s hand in this”, Cassandra spoke from the doorway of Cullen’s quarters, grinning as she saw the spot where both had been working on research. One corner of his office, a spot where the sun shone in through the window, now had a small table, which was heaped with books, reams of parchment sat in one chair, quills and bottles of ink decorated the empty spots on the table. It was a disaster, and more than one Cullen had made up his mind to clean it, only for the two mages to insist there was a point to the chaos.

He held a mug of hot tea, spiked with several herbs, in his palm, as he read over a report, and absorbed in his work he responded with a noncommittal murmur. In truth, he missed the company Talise had provided, she often forsook her spot in the rookery to sit with him, and when she left on a mission, his quarters had seemed emptier than ever.

“She sends her best friends to watch over you. They’re turned your quarters into a virtual library on magic and healing, they make you eat meals, offer their opinions in the middle of meetings, and I’ve seen Amelia dragging you around the garden. And all you can say is hmmm?”

“I know what she did, and I know why she did it”, Cullen answered, setting the cup of tea down to write something on the report, “And… I find I like it.”

When the tawny-haired commander had muttered his enjoyment of the attention and friendship, Cassandra’s grin had widened, her eyes twinkling with mirth, “You got used to having company here up here.”

“I did. And I find I quite like having their company”, Cullen picked up his mug, sipping at it and then setting it down with a look of disgust on his features, “That is… interesting.”

Cassandra snorted a laugh at Cullen when he sipped the tea, “Valissia experimenting again?”

“Yes… and it’s awful.” His nose wrinkled at the mug, as if the mug itself had offended him. Valissia had been experimenting on him, using different spells, potions, and teas spiked with herbs, all in effort to find ways to ease his pain from the withdrawals, and the aches that came with it. In all honesty, he was feeling physically better, his joints did not ache as much, his head did not pound with frequent headaches; but the spirit mage could do nothing for his lonely heart.

“Talise makes one that is far better. Has all these spices from Rivaini in it. She uses it after she’s had a particularly hard fight.” Cassandra leaned against his desk, her fingers tracing over the crimson stains on Cullen’s desk.

“You know gotten to know her well.” To appear more casual about Talise than he truly feels, he spoke more to a report on his desk than he did Cassandra.

“I wouldn’t say that. I know her, I know some of her secrets. Not all of them. Not nearly as many as you do.” The Seeker’s gaze lifted from the stains on his desk to Cullen’s features, gleaming with a knowing look as she studied him.

Cullen felt a deep pink flush creep up his face and settle onto his cheekbones at the Seeker’s words, one hand lifted to rub at the back of his neck. It was unnerving to know that his feelings were so easily seen, “I… I mean….”

“Look, we all know you’re trying to keep it quiet. But that doesn’t mean we don’t all know. I knew the first morning she was here.” Never one to shy away from something, Cassandra pointedly looked at Cullen, folding her arms over her chest.

“You… ahhh... you did?” One large hand rubbed at the back of his neck as his cheeks darkened further, flushing a deep red in embarrassment as Cassandra looked at him.

“I saw it when she stood for judgement. The entire court saw part of it, but she looked at you last. You were the last person she looked at, before making her decision.”

At the mention of that morning, Cullen’s amber eyes lifted towards the main keep. The memory of Talise, broken and hurting, demanding judgment for what she had done, still haunted him, especially at night, “I wanted to keep her safe. She was hurting, and I just wanted to make it better for her.”

“Like I said, we all know. Some of us have known since she first got here.” A blast from the horns at the main gate, beneath Cullen’s quarters, sounded, and shouts went up, sparing Cullen from having to respond. A cheer started among the soldiers that were on guard at the main gate, the Herald and his companions had returned. Cassandra walked to the doorway, and stopped to grin at Cullen over his shoulder, “Speak of the devil. She has returned.”

“And here I thought she was a ghost, and not a devil.” Cullen followed Cassandra out of his quarters with a pounding heart, trying his best to appear as just the commander, and not like his heart had just crossed the bridge back into Skyhold, safe once more.

Talise slid from her mount, a tall, dark gray horse with heavily feathered feet, and heaved a grateful sigh. They had been out for longer than they expected, the Storm Coast was crawling with undead, and bandits. All her gear needed cleaning, her weapons badly needed to be sharpened, one dagger was working loose of its handle, her poison stocks were low, and she wanted nothing more than to see Cullen.

She had not expected to find that leaving Skyhold, leaving him, would leave her with an ache that hurt to her very bones. Her summer bright gaze had swung back to the Frostbacks more often than she wanted, she had written pages of letters to him, and received plenty back. There was some comfort to be had, Valissia and Amelia had promised to stay with Cullen: she had confided to them that Cullen had stopped taking lyrium, and the two mages had volunteered to pore through the library, looking for ways that would make the process easier. Still, she had been caught off guard by how badly she missed him, and had channeled that against every opponent they faced. She fought harder, faster, was more ruthless; like she had for years, she had channeled her emotions into her skills.

Standing in the muddy courtyard, she caught the jingle of mail, the clank of plate armor; as she took a breath a whiff of elder flower and oakmoss hung in the air, and chills raced down her arms. For a moment, tears burned in her gaze, and she heaved a breath into her lungs, looking up through a heavy fall of dark silken hair, to find Cullen standing just out of arm’s reach, “Commander.”

He sucked in a breath as he saw her, sliding from her horse. Suddenly his heart was thudding against his chest, “I’ve had some company the past few days”.

“Oh?” Her question was light, as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She was grateful for the scarf that covered the lower part of her face, it gave her something to hide behind as she looked up at him.

“I gather you sent Valissia and Amelia to keep me company?”, the smile on his face faded away as he looked at her. She was wrapped in black leather armor, bristling with more daggers and knives than he thought possible. Over her face she wore a black scarf, drawn up to the bridge of her nose, and up over her high cheekbones; the lower portion of her face was obscured, leaving her bright eyes blazing out at him in shades of cerulean. With the hood of her cloak up over her head, he realized, she would be almost invisible, without using any of her skills.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, she wanted to throw herself into his arms, wanted to hide behind him from the world, wanted the comfort that she found in his arms. One hand slowly tugged the scarf that covered her face down, revealing the high cheekbones, the small, pointed chin, and leaving her nowhere to hide, “I did. Were they too much?”

“At times, yes”, he nodded at her words, his fingers curling into fists to keep from reaching her, “But I appreciated the company. After you left, my quarters seemed too… empty.”

“They can be overwhelming.” A small grin lifted her lush lips as she looked up at him, aware of how overwhelming both Valissia and Amelia could be at times.

“I found they were what I needed though”, as he spoke the words, he continued to stare at her. For the first time since she set foot in Skyhold, he was looking at the Ghost of Ferelden. The eyes he was lost in were the same eyes that a target saw last, the smell of water lilies, a scent that hung about his quarters even now, meant death for a target. Standing before him, holding his torn and battered heart in her ebony gloved hands, was one of the most feared assassins in the world.

None of that mattered though, and he reached for her without a thought for the people that would see him, or what they would say. When she tugged the scarf from her face, and looked up at him, he was lost, falling into her summer bright gaze again. One large hand slid down her armor-clad shoulder, down her arm, and reached for her hand.

Talise had seen the look on his face when he first saw her, she knew the look, had seen it before; outside of Antiva assassins were feared, and the mere rumor of Ghost in a city was enough to set a city on edge. Guards would be doubled, mercenaries hired to protect the rich and powerful, and people who had no reason to live in fear found themselves drowning in it. She braced herself for Cullen’s reaction, for the moment he turned from her, and instead he pulled her to him.

Relief coursed through her veins, and she launched herself at him with enough force to send him staggering back. Nearly a foot shorter than he stood, her booted feet left the muddy ground as she wound her arms around his neck, and buried her face in the fur mantle of his surcoat. Cullen took several steps backwards when she flung herself at him, his free hand reaching up to cup the back of her head as she came up off the ground, the arm around her back shifting to hold her more firmly to him.

“Thank the Maker”, his heart pounded with an equal amount of relief. The nightmares that had tortured him, her broken and bleeding, needing help, or the worse one, the dreams where Christopher and the companions brought her body back with them, were all untrue. Talise was not only standing before him, he was holding her in his arms, pressing one gloved hand against the hardened leather armor on her back.

Over Cullen’s shoulder she saw Amelia and Valissia leaning their heads together, golden and auburn strands of hair mixing as they leaned against her, and she caught Valissia’s soft smile. Christopher swept Valissia up and walked for the main keep, while Amelia was pulled away by Michel, and the other companions dispersed as well. She was still in Cullen’s arms, feet dangling off the ground, as the stable boys came to collect the horses, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I missed you.”

Cullen smiled at her then, leaning forward to brush a kiss against her forehead, “I missed you. I was grateful for the company you sent me. But I am so glad you’re back.”

Behind his neck she tugged her gloves off, holding them in one hand, the other she sunk into his tawny tresses, tipping her chin up to catch his lips. Cullen sucked in a breath, as she nipped at his lower lip, and he parted his lips, rubbing her tongue with her. Before the kiss could deepen further, he lifted his head, and let her frame slide down his, catching her finely boned face in his leather gloved hands, “I think… we need to go upstairs now.”

Talise nodded in agreement to his words, taking a step back from him to clear her head. Already her cheeks were flushed with arousal, and she could feel her heart racing as she looked up at him. With a brief peek at the courtyard, she turned, and walked up the stairs. Cullen was right behind her, his fingers reached for hers as they walked, squeezing tightly.

Once in his quarters, he slammed the doors shut, and turned to Talise, who reached for a dagger in her boot. Wordlessly, she started tugging her weapons she off, the daggers in her boots, the long ones strapped to her back, and started to work on her armor. Her bright blue gaze met his as she popped the clasps on her chest piece, letting it hang from her form as she tugged the rest of her armor off, the pieces hitting the ground with thuds. Across from her, he tugged his surcoat off, dropping it in his chair. A few moments later, and he was down to a pair of leather pants and a linen tunic.

“Are we going to break in your chair? Since we’ve already broken in your desk?” She grins impudently at him, shaking her hair free of the high ponytail she wore it in.

When his armor was off, he reached for her, sinking his fingers into her hair, and tilting her face up to him, his demeanor had changed, she saw the somehow sweetly dominating gleam in his eyes, and it sent a shiver up her spine, “Not the chair. Upstairs. Right now Talise.”

“And if I don’t?” she challenged, rebellion gleaming bright in her sky touched gaze, as she looked up at him, tugging the last piece of her armor from her wrist.

His fingers tightened in her hair, tipping her head back until he could press his lips to hers, gently, belying in the strength in his arms as he held her, “Now Talise.”

She shivered, nodding at his words, her momentary flash of rebellion gone. His fingers slipped from her hair and she turned, walking to the ladder and then climbing it. Cullen took a moment to lock the doors to his quarters, before climbing the ladder after her. Talise was standing by the bed when he stepped onto the balcony, her eyes nearly glowing with arousal as she watched him cross the wooden floor to her. Instead of pulling her to him, he reached for the hem of her shirt, tugging off, and then tugged on the ties on her leggings, pulling those free and then yanking them over her gently curved hips.

She managed to kick her feet free of her leggings at the same time she tugged his shirt up towards his shoulders, and then her fingers went to the ties on his pants, only to stop when his hands grabbed hers. Holding her hands in one of his, he pushed her towards the bed, until she fell backwards onto it, and then he leaned down, crawling onto the bed after her. Talise scooted backwards until she was at the head of the bed, her arms reaching up for Cullen.

He leaned into her, parting her legs with his thigh, his lips meeting hers, his tongue tangling with hers in a rhythm that matched his hips, which were rocking into hers. Each time he ground against her, a bolt of pleasure rocked through him, and he groaned into the kiss, one of his hands rising to tangle in her hair, cupping the back of her head. Talise scored her nails down his back, leaving trails of fire as she arched up from the bed, her legs curling around his waist.

They kissed until Talise’s lips were plump, until Cullen was so hard his cock was leaking inside of his leather breeches, the swollen head peeking up through the untied laces. His free hand cupped her breast, pinching the light pink nipple until it pebbled and pushed against his fingers, and then he broke the kiss, ducking his head to suck on her breasts, while Talise squirmed and writhed on the bed beneath him. Her hands were restless, sliding from his shoulders down his back and then back up, into his hair, holding his head against her.

When her fingers curled into his hair, mussing it, his own reached for the lacy waistband of her smallclothes, tugging them free and sliding them down her thighs, until she could kick them free, and then he settled between her thighs once more. A moan rumbled in his chest when his fingers skated over the tender folds between her legs, she was already swollen and slick; delicately he ran his fingertips over her, again and again until she was arching from the bed, moaning into his kiss.

“Please Cullen… please...” Her hips lifted from the bed, trying in vain to get his fingers to rub against her over-sensitive clit.

“Right…” Already he knew what she wanted, and with a grin of masculine triumph, he ran the pad of his calloused thumb over the bundle of nerves. Immediately he felt her legs twitch, and he pressed a kiss to the inside curve of one breast, “Here?”

“Yes there. Please there. Please.” Talise babbled as his thumb stroked over her, and she curled both hands into his hair, holding onto him as her back bowed from the bed.

“Tell me what you need”, his voice dropped lower, whispering against her skin, but still carrying the weight of command as he spoke, calloused fingers running over the soft, slick folds between her thighs, which she spread eagerly for him.

“You. I need you.”

“You have me. What do you need?”

“Just… “ Her words broke apart as her hips lifted from the bed, her legs tightening around his waist. To keep from screaming, she bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the lush bottom curve until she tasted blood. Cullen leaned up then, capturing her lips with his, and she moaned into his kiss, almost shrieking as her body pulsed with her climax.

She drenched his fingers, and the feeling drove Cullen to the edge of desperation. As soon as she relaxed on the bed, blinking dazedly up at him, he moved, rising to his knees and shoved his pants down past his hips. Shaking off her pleasurable haze, Talise reached for his cock as soon as it was free of his breeches, curling her fingers around his length and stroking it as she looked up at him. He fell forward onto his hands, braced on either side of her body, panting as she stroked him, his eyes closing against the pleasure, “Talise, I’m not sure I can be gentle.”

“I don’t want gentle. I need to know you’re real.” Her fingers ran up and down his length, not quite squeezing, but not letting go either. She kept her touch light as she toyed with him, knowing he would lose control faster the more she teased him. One slim hand lifted to his chest, pressing against it, as she leaned up from the pillows scattered across his bed.

He blinked confusedly at her, the pleasurable haze starting to swamp his brain, her fingers around his erection making it hard for him to think. Her hand pressed into the muscles of his chest harder, and he leaned back, until he was stretched out in front of her, laying on his back, his head at the foot of the bed. She followed him as he laid down, rising to her knees above him, her fingers continuing their delicate dance up and down his length. The hand in the middle of his chest slid down, her nails lightly raking over the muscles of his stomach, and he moaned in response, reaching for her, intent on pulling her up to his hips.

Talise evaded his grasp, reaching up with a hand to curl round his, as her head dropped over his length. Parted lips pressed soft, tender kisses over the swollen crown of his cock, and down his length, her tongue traced the throbbing veins as she lifted her head back up, her lips parted and she sucked on just the swollen head for a moment. Cullen hissed out a curse, then a prayer, the hand that held hers tightening, the other falling to the bed and grabbing handfuls of the blanket.

From under her lashes her bright sky gaze lifted to watch his face as she sucked on his length, slowly working more of him into her mouth. Tawny hair was tousled by her fingers, his jaw was tight, his face tipped up towards the ceiling, his eyes closed, his lips moving in a soundless prayer. Her lips curled upwards in a grin as she lifted her head from his cock, running her tongue against the sensitive underside, tracing her name in tiny letters with the nimble tip of her tongue over the spot.

“Maker’s…. breath… Talise…” his fingers rose from the bed, reaching for her, only to fall back onto the bed and fist back into the blankets, pulling them into a heap beside him. His hips rocked upwards to meet her tongue, it was torture, feeling her lick over his length when he desperately wanted her to suck on him once more, but it was a pleasurable torture, each movement of her tongue sent lightning bolts running down his spine.

“What do you need Cullen?” She whispered his words back to him as she looked up at him, running her tongue up and down his length, until it had slid over every inch of skin.

Cullen recognized his words, from just a few minutes ago, and he groaned, knowing she was taking control back from him. He was unable to resist the siren song of pleasure, and his hips bucked as she continued to lick over him, “You… I need you.”

“Oh mi amor, you have me. Don’t you know?”, a wicked grin curved her lips as she smiled up at him, her eyes bright with desire.

He hissed at her words, his hips bucking, lifting his cock to her in blatant invitation, hands squeezing around hers and the blanket. He was throbbing, his cock so hard it leaked, the clear droplets were met by the gentle swipe of her tongue as she looked up at him, and his honeyed gaze closed, “Please Talise… please.”

“Now I know why you like me to beg so much”, a thrill of power rushed through her, watching one of the strongest men she knew, beg for her. She continued to just lick the head of his length, her fingers curling loosely around his length, fingers not meeting, and stroking gently.

“More…” it was nearly whimpered as Cullen shifted on the bed, his entire frame shaking as she started to stroke him. It had been too long without her, even a day was too long without her, and now she was teasing him, torturing him, with soft licks and sucking, only to back off, “I need you… more than I need lyrium.”

Talise’s eyes widened at his words, for a moment, and then she dropped her head, her lips tracing over his length once more, before parting and sucking him in. She did not stop, until she had to, until he was crowding the back of her throat, and she was close to gagging. Cullen pushed himself to his elbows with a shout when she sucked his cock back into her mouth, only to fall backwards onto the bed, his hand leaving the mattress to curl into her hair, holding her head gently.

“Fuck… like that…” He could do little more than pant as she sucked on him, her lips moving up and down his length. When she sucked him into her mouth once more, her cheeks caving in as her mouth slid down his length, he cursed, pushing up from the mattress, the hand in her hair fisting it, and tugging her head away from him, the hand that held hers letting go of her slim fingers and reaching for her shoulder, grabbing her small frame and turning her in one quick motion.

Talise bounced slightly when her back hit the bed, and she looked up at him, his frame sliding over hers. A shiver ran through her, and before he could slide his leg between hers, she parted her thighs, letting her legs fall open on the bed. The tender folds between her legs were slick, swollen, the insides of her thighs gleamed with arousal; her breasts were topped by hardened pink nipples, as she lay stretched out beneath him. One hand reached for his length, and she stroked it gently, her eyes darkening with arousal when his hips bucked into her hand.

Cullen looked down at her, seeing her eyes nearly black with desire, pupils taking over the swirling blue of her gaze, her breasts topped with swollen nipples, and the slick, swollen folds between her legs, revealed to him as she lay on the bed, legs parted in a wanton display. A groan left him, and he reached for her hand, stilling her fingers on his length. Keeping his hand pressed over hers, he leaned forward, until the head of cock was pressed tight against her slick opening.

Talise whimpered, her hips lifting from the bed, pressing against him, and she let go of his cock, twining her fingers around his and lifting their arms over her head as he stretched out atop her. Her moan met his as he slid into her, and she lifted her hips from the bed in greedy response, hissing out a breath as he slid further into her. Cullen cursed as his cock slipped into her folds, she was twitching and spasming around his length, one calloused hand slid to her thigh, lifting her leg until it was curled high around his back, and his hips snapped forward, burying his length in her.

“Maker… Cullen… I can’t…”, She squealed as he sunk into her, her body struggling to accept him, she felt a familiar burn of discomfort until it faded to pleasure, her nails scored his shoulders again as she arched up from the bed. Cullen set a punishingly hard, but slow rhythm, withdrawing from her body and then snapping his hips forward, sliding his free hand down her back until he could cup her ass in his hand, lifting her up to meet his thrusts.

On a moan, she buried her face in his shoulder, her free hand clinging to his shoulder, the fingers of her other hand wrapping tightly around his hand. Eagerly she met each thrust with her hips, she moaned when his hips pressed against hers. She was hovering on the edge again, each thrust pushing her closer to another orgasm, and she whimpered, her nails digging into the skin on his shoulders again. He felt her tighten around him, hissed in a breath when she clawed at him, and he knew she was close. He let go of her ass, snaking his hand around her hip until he could rub at her sensitive clit once more. When she whimpered and whined, writhing on the bed, he moaned, she was so tight and slick, pulsing around him as her orgasm started to overtake her.

She bit her lip once more, as she climaxed again, squirming against his frame on the bed. The sheets beneath her grew damp, slickness dripping out of her folds and sliding over the curves of her behind to drip onto the sheets. A blush darkened her cheeks as she looked up at him, and she blushed further as he leaned back, staring at the space they were joined.

“Missed… this. Missed you.” He ground the words out, his eyes darkening with arousal as he watched his cock slid in and out of her folds. His free hand left her clit as the last spasms shook her frame, with a groan he pulled from her body, hands reaching for her hips, flipping her over and then pulling her to her knees in one movement. Talise reached for the headboard with one hand, the other dug into the bed for support; her breath left her as he pushed back into her, her back bowing to push her hips up to meet his thrusts.

“That’s my good girl”, he groaned the words out, closing his eyes against the pleasure, only to blink them open and look down once more, past the curves of her ass her folds were spread around his length as he slid in and out of her. His hands tightened around her waist, bringing her back to him, when Talise pushed herself back up, until her back was pressed against his chest, his hands cupped her breasts while he kept up the same hard, steady rhythm from earlier.

She wanted to feel his skin against hers, one of her arms lifted to curl around his neck and tug him closer to her, the other slid down her stomach until her fingers rubbed at her clit once more. Swollen and over-stimulated, she whimpered, the sound growing into a moan as his hand slid over her hip, joining her fingers as she played with the swollen bundle of nerves. Their fingers entwined, she continued to rub her clit, until she was trembling, her legs shaking.

He felt her started to tighten around his length, her folds slick and swollen. Groaning, he continued to slide in and out of her, his fingers curling around her own while she toyed with her clit. Each thrust, each snap of his hips, buried his cock in her, dragging him closer to the edge. When her body stiffened, her back arching, which pushed her hips hard against his, his free hand curled around her hips, pulling her to him; as she pulsed around him in one more orgasm, drenching his length, his hips slammed into hers harder.

Talise moaned, her voice breaking as her release shook her small frame, squeezing around Cullen’s cock, which brought him to his climax. Cullen groaned as he slid into her one final time, holding still as he came, his legs shaking from the force. She whimpered, her hips pushing back against his, rocking into him as his orgasm prolonged hers. They rocked together, lost in pleasure, until Talise started to fall forward, Cullen caught her, his free hand resting on her stomach, holding her in place and leaning her back against him.

He slid from her body with a groan, the hand had been holding hers as she toyed with her clit sliding over her folds, cupping her in his palm, the other hand running his calloused fingers over the soft skin of her stomach. Still cupping her slick mound in his hand, he gently tipped her forward, and then on her side, stretching his muscled frame behind her. “Maker Talise…”

A whimper left her when he slid from her, her knees wobbled, and she was grateful to have his strength behind her as she fell against him. When he leaned her forward, she dropped onto the bed, her chest heaving as she panted, “I love you.”

Overcome by a sudden rush of emotion, he pressed soft kisses into her shoulder, his lips running down the scar on her arm. A shiver wracked her frame, and she slid her hand down his arm, running her fingers over the back of his hand as he cupped her, carefully she shifted, and he slid his hand from her mound, resting it on her stomach.

Her arms slid around his shoulders, tugging him to her, and her lips met his, she dropped kisses over his face and jawline, her fingers slid into his hair, holding him to her. She was murmuring words he did not understand, and she pressed them into his skin as she whispered them, “Te extrañe. Siempre te necesito… Extrañé tus manos”

He realized she was whispering to him in Rivaini, and he sighed, threading his fingers through her hair as he she laid next to him, “I’ve no idea what you’re saying…”

“Telling you all my secrets”, she smiled at him, her sky-touched gaze soft as it traced over his features.

“What are those secrets?”, his eyes slid closed as her fingers traced over his jaw, and he sighed at her touch.

“I missed you. I need you…” she whispered something else, slipping back into Rivaini, this time dragging her lips down his neck, “I missed your hands.”

“My hands?” in response he lifts one of them, stretching his fingers out. His knuckles are crisscrossed with scars, one of his fingers will not open all the way, it never healed properly after being broken, “They’re covered in scars.”

“They tell a story. All your scars tell stories.” She nodded in answer to his question, tangling her fingers with his as he lifted his hand.

Cullen’s warm amber gaze slide over her naked form, for a talented assassin, her reputation well-earned, he was astounded that she had so few scars, “How is that you don’t have any?”

“Valissia. Beneath that bookish exterior is a very talented healer.” Talise’s fingers ran over the scars on Cullen’s knuckles, cataloguing them as she touches each one.

“I know. I’ve become her pet project.” His gaze tracked her fingers as she continued to run her fingers over his, and then traced over the back of his hand gently. Chills raced down his arm to his shoulder, and he shivered lightly at the sensation.

Talise lifted an eyebrow at him in question, waiting for him to continue talking.

“She has made me teas, mixed new potions for me to try, she made this liniment for me one afternoon.” with their fingers entwined, he gestured towards the top of one chest, which was littered with new potions, small tea bags, and several containers of ointment.

“Is it helping?” her summer bright gaze widened as she saw what Valissia had made for Cullen, in just the time she had been gone.

“Some of it. The tea is awful.”

Talise snorted in response, biting back a giggle, “She used to do the same thing to me.”

“Your arm scarred though.” Letting go of her fingers, he reached for her arm, carefully holding it in his calloused hand as he examined the thin, silvery scar that traced down the inside of her bicep.

“I could have her heal it. I didn’t want to.” Her skin dotted with chills as he touched her, her eyes watching as his large hand held her arm.

“Why not?”

“Me recuerda a ti”, for an answer, she leans up to him, almost kissing him, and whispers her answer in Rivaini to him.

“I’m going to have to learn Rivaini.” The movement of her lips against his has him shivering, and he reaches for her, curling his arms around her waist and bringing her closer to him.

“I’ll teach you.” She lifted a leg, draped it over his hip, and moved until she was curled tightly around him, the arm he had been holding was draped over his shoulder, her hand curling into his hair.

Calloused hands slid down the smooth line of her back, and then back up, in a slow rhythm, his warm whiskey and honey gaze was half hidden behind tawny lashes; for the first time since Talise had left, he relaxed, sinking into the mattress rather than laying tense atop the sheets. There was so much to do, so much that he could not forget, so much that needed them both, but for one moment, everything seemed right in his world again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another NSFW scene. At some point in time Cullen and Talise will do more than have sex. Right around the time my personal obsession with him ends. ;)

 

Talise was alone when she opened her eyes. She was stretched out in the middle of Cullen’s bed, his large frame was not pressed against hers, a heavy arm was not draped over her middle, a hand did not cup one of her breasts, lazily stroking her tender skin in her sleep, and there was no scratch of stubble against her shoulder. The bed behind her was cold, she hissed in a breath as her sleep-warmed skin met cool sheets.

Covering a yawn with her hand, she sat up, reached for a discarded shirt, all the while listening for any sounds coming from Cullen’s quarters below. No sound, not Cullen ruffing through papers, no one issued orders or spoke to a soldier, his quarters were eerily still. Sitting on a nearby chest sat a small leather pack, a note on creamy parchment was propped atop it, her name written in a familiar, feminine hand, from Valissia. Uncaring that she was naked, save for one of Cullen’s shirts, she padded across the wooden floor to it.

_Little Love,_

_Amelia has decided she is going to seduce Michel tonight, and wants our room for her purposes. I took the liberty of packing you a bag to keep at Cullen’s quarters, so you will not need to try and sneak in before Michel gets there. Perhaps this is a good time to speak of sleeping arrangements? Neither of us are truly using the room for more than storage… If things have progressed with Cullen to that point, then perhaps you should have that roof in his quarters fixed, and claim it, and him, as truly yours._

_Speaking of Cullen, I did what you asked of me, as did Amelia while you were gone. And I have gotten to know him better, in the time I’ve spent around him. In the beginning, I only cared about your heart; but now I have a vested interest in you both. Do not hurt that man and put me in the position of having to defend you. He is struggling Talise, he is hurting and in pain from withdrawal, and while I can assist with that in many ways, what he needs more is what you can give him. He needs to forgive himself. He has done things and said things that he considered unforgivable._

_You and I both know how awful things in Kirkwall became, at the end. I would happily choke the life from Anders if I could get my hands on him, for starting this Maker damned war between templars and mages. Cullen carries the weight of all that has happened in Kirkwall, and before, at Kinloch Hold. Ironically, both times stand as testament to what evil and harm a mage can bring, and yet it is the templar that blames himself._

_You cannot force him to forgive himself, and you are not his absolution. Just like he is not yours. But help him find his own way to forgiveness and peace. He desperately deserves both._

_Valissia_

_By the way, Amelia and I agree. Lord Cullen and Lady Talise Rutherford sound quite perfect together._

_Also, I am spending the night with Christopher. Unless someone is bleeding to death, on fire, or the Breach tears itself completely open and the world is ending within seconds, I do not care, I am not interested, and it can wait until tomorrow. I suggest you take the same attitude and spend this night with Cullen._

Her summer bright gaze flicked over the parchment, and she snorted inelegantly at the last lines, before laying the letter to one side, and peering into the pack. Valissia had not let her down, fresh clothes, a comb, ties and pins for her hair, soap, lotion, anything she would possibly need for days, not one night, was filled in the pack. Tucked into a pocket were several healing tonics, and two bottles of a shimmering, silvery draught. Thoughtfully she studied them, picking one up and swirling the bottle, watching the liquid gleam in the bottle. She had taken the draughts faithfully for years now, twice a week, even when she has had no need to. A thought rose in her, one she scarcely gave hope to; a baby, with golden curls and familiar bright cerulean eyes, the idea wrenched her heart against her ribs in a wave of longing, and without thinking, she uncorked the draught, tips the bottle back, drinking it swiftly. The wants of her heart would have to wait, until the world was safer, until Cullen was safe.

Stealthily she worked her way across the quiet courtyard. Night was falling on Skyhold, the sun had sunk behind the snowcapped Frostbacks, the sky was a blaze of colors, but Talise missed the showy display as she walked with single-minded purpose. In the garden, tucked in a small room, she found Cullen on his knees in front of the statue of Andraste. Her heart ached at the sight, his golden head was bowed, and she could just barely make out the words he was saying. Once again, he was praying.

Quietly, she crossed the room, laying a hand on his shoulder when she reached for him. One gloved hand reached for hers, squeezing her fingers tightly, but he did not move from his spot. Instead, Talise sunk to her knees beside him, and Cullen reached for her, drawing her to his side with one powerful arm.

Against his shoulder, she spoke, her head bowed, “Cullen… I need you to forgive me.”

He had not paused in his prayers, although he had stuttered a word when the scent of water lilies reached him. But now, as her whispered words, he stopped, blinking several times in confusion as he looked over at her, “For what?”

Talise lifted her chin, her summer bright gaze tracing over the statue of Andraste before her, “I knew…. About Anders. Well, I suspected.”

His amber gaze grew wide for a moment, and he sucked in a deep breath. Talise was arrowing to the heart of his guilt, and making it hers.

“I left Kirkwall to finish a contract in Nevarra. Amelia went with me, Valissia stayed behind in Kirkwall, with Hawke and his friends”, Her hair, unbound, fell around her shoulders and over her face in a spill of dark chocolate strands, sparkling with hints of gold from the candles lit in the chapel.

“So, you weren’t there when Anders blew up the circle then?”

“No. But Valissia had written me, told me that she suspected Anders was possessed, and that he was losing control to the spirit, or demon, that had possessed him. She wanted to go to the templars, she knew from Hawke that Knight-Captain Rutherford was harsh, but fair, and she felt she could trust you with the information.”

“I….” His hands ached this evening, and they trembled until he curled his hands into loose fists. He had fallen asleep with Talise, only to be woken up hurting and troubled by his dreams. After pacing his office until his knees ached, he had limped his way to the chapel in the garden. He had not prayed as much as he had sat in front of Andraste, letting the memories wash over him. A few short months ago, he had sat in this chapel, with a short, dark-haired woman, who had the most piercing, summer bright blue eyes, while she mourned a brother. A brother who had died at Haven. The guilt had plagued Cullen that evening, he had been in command, he should have done something more, instead Jordan had rushed out with the Inquisitor, determined to help, and had fallen in battle.

He had expected her anger, and braced himself for it when Talise walked into the main hall that first morning. Instead he had realized she was blaming herself, that her guilt at her brother’s death had driven her to the Inquisition, to sit for judgment. And she had walked off with his heart that night in the chapel. Now, she was accepting guilt for something yet again, this time for the events at Kirkwall, and the idea snatched the air from his lungs, made his heart hurt, intensified the ache in his battered hands.

“I told her no. Reminded her she was an apostate mage, and that you would likely take her in as well. I knew well the abuse Meredith was dealing out, and I was terrified Valissia would be made tranquil before I could get back to Kirkwall and get her out of the Circle.” The assassin’s sharp gaze saw the tremble in his hands, felt it against her shoulder, and she reached out, curling her hands around his as she whispered the words to him.

“Meredith wielded the brand for far less. I cannot say I blame you for your concern.” It felt heretical, somehow, to talk loudly in the small chapel, and so instead his deep voice whispered the words to her, while he leaned one stubble-covered cheek against the top of her head.

Talise murmured the words, her gaze watching the tiny flames from snow white candles dance around them, “I know. I had written several anonymous letters to the Seekers, pleading with them to investigate Meredith, to come to Kirkwall and see for themselves what was going on.”

Cullen sucked in a breath at her softly whispered admission, watching as her fingers curled around his fist, sliding between his fingers and holding on tightly to him, “You… you did?”

“Cullen, I passed through Kirkwall repeatedly, I’d heard the rumors.”

“I should have done more to stop Meredith.” He lifted his head from hers, muscled shoulders dropping as he spoke.

“She played off your anger and your pain. Instead of trying to help you get through your past, like she should have. And you cannot blame the red lyrium on that, she was doing that before she was exposed to it.” One of her small hands left his, and she reached for his face, cupping his warm palm in her hand, her thumb gently running over the scar that ran to his lip.

He nodded, merely watching her, his warm gaze tracing over the delicate features of her face, his fingers squeezing tightly around hers.

“I told Valissia I would finish the contract, come back to Kirkwall and deal with Anders. And speak to Hawke. I was arrogant, the Ghost of Ferelden had never failed, and I could balance everything.” Guilt, doubt, pain, they all flickered in his gaze, darkening the shades of blue that swirled in her eyes.

Even as she spoke, he was shaking his head at her words, his honey and whiskey gaze meeting hers, “Hawke is as much as to blame as you are.”

“There is plenty of blame to go around. The contract in Nevarra took longer than we anticipated. Amelia wanted to head back to Kirkwall ahead of me, to see if she could find out what was going on, but I didn’t want her traveling alone.” Her fingers kept up gentle movements, tracing with a light touch against his face.

“Yet it’s fine for you to travel alone?” His answer is short, he still remembered the night she staggered into Skyhold, bleeding and beaten, having taken on a group of Venatori alone.

“I’m better at self-preservation”, her lips curled in a half smile as she spoke, “When the job was finished, I got a message from Valissia, she had fled Kirkwall. Anders had made his move, the Chantry there was destroyed, Meredith was revealed to be insane, and the city was in utter chaos.”

“It was not a pleasant time.” Pleasant shivers had broken out over him as he stroked his face, but his gaze fell shut at the memories that came to him.

“I know. There are many people who could have stopped things in Kirkwall, yet none did. We weren’t meant to.” Slowly her fingers worked their way over his eyebrows, tracing them with the very tips of her fingers.

“What do you mean?” Tawny lashes, just a few shades darker than his hair, covered his gaze as he spoke, dark circles nearly the color of fresh bruises rimming his gaze.

It took her several moments for her to speak, and her words are colored with both acceptance of the past, and a tinge of regret, “If things were meant to be any different, then the Seekers would have come to Kirkwall to investigate Meredith. If Viscount Threnhold had succeeded in expelling the Templars, Meredith would not have come to power there. If Viscount Dumar had done more as Meredith’s abuses came to light, it would have stopped. If Varric and Bertrand and Hawke had never found the red lyrium idol Meredith would never have ended up with it. If I had stayed in Kirkwall longer, passed on the contract in Nevarra, if I had finished it faster. If I had let Amelia go ahead of me. If I had acted on Valissia’s instincts sooner.”

“What would you have done to Anders?” Cullen was afraid to voice the words. He knew what she did, knew who she was, her skills and work were legendary. For some unknown reason, he still asked, even as he feared the answered.

Talise met his gaze with her own, not flinching from him, refusing to hide the parts of her life from him anymore, “I’m an assassin. Do you even need to ask?”

 “If Hawke had listened to reason, years before, about Anders. There is blame, but we all carry an equal share of it. It shouldn’t be yours alone”, she slipped from underneath his arm, and moved to sit in front of him, putting her back to the statue. On her knees in front of Cullen, she cupped his face in both hands, feeling the scratch of his stubble against her palms, “I need you to forgive me, for not acting sooner. For not protecting everyone.”

“There is nothing to forgive. You did the best you could. It was an impossible situation.” He murmured the words, and moved, straightening from his spot on the steps. Still on his knees, he pulled her to him, until he could wrap both arms around her back.

“Then why can’t you forgive yourself?” the words were gently murmured against his cheek, while she pressed a tender kiss to the stubble covered skin.

Cullen froze, leaning back to look at her, the warm amber of his gaze colliding with the cool blue of hers. He saw nothing but sympathy in them, and her love for him, it warred with the guilt that he carried. She was right, and he knew it, but years of guilt and torment would not let go. Carefully, she rose to her feet, and reached for one of his gloved hands, when his fingers curled around her own, she tugged him after her, leading him out of the chapel, and across the darkened garden.

“We’ve been here before”, he murmured the words, remembering the night he spent with her in the chapel.

Talise’s booted feet came to a stop on the garden path, and she turned, looking up at him, “You were the bright spot in that miserable night. No matter what may happen, I will always remember that it was you that stayed with me.”

“I…. did not want to let you go”, his gaze traveled over her face as she looked up at him.

“I didn’t want to leave.”

“I’m not letting you go this time”, he tugged on the hand he held, bringing her to him, slowly gathering her into his arms. When her booted feet left the ground, she wound her arms around his neck, burying her face in his surcoat while he held her. The last light of evening faded as they stood there, Cullen holding Talise off the ground until his arms ached, and he let her slide to the ground, but keep his grip on the assassin as tight as he could.

Eventually, as the stars wheeled overhead, Talise lifted her head from his chest, “We can’t stand out here all night long.”

“I was sort of hoping we could.”

“Come on.”

He followed her, lifting a dark gold eyebrow when Talise turned into the hallway where the advisor’s private baths were. When she came to a stop in front of the door that lead to his bath, he could not help the smirk that curled his lips, “I didn’t bring the key.”

“I’ve yet to find a lock I could not pick”, she returned his smirk, sinking to her knees in front of the lock, and tugging a few tools from the inside of her boot. A few seconds of tinkering, and with a small squeak, the lock gave. Wearing a smile of triumph, she glanced up at Cullen, only to be shoved into the room, his lips pressed to hers as he kicked the door shut. Cullen pinned her to the door with his frame, cupping her face in his hands as their tongues curled and rubbed against each other.

One of the perks of being an advisor was the separate bathing quarters. Josephine and Leiliana had taken the rooms with ornate tubs, and filled them with soft towels, robes, silken lotions and perfume. Cullen had picked the one with the tub carved directly out of the stone floor, heated by some sort of engineering marvel the dwarves came up with in the first weeks the Inquisition took over Skyhold. One side of the tub was heated until the water was almost too hot to stand, the other side was left cooler, and in the middle, where it all met, was perfect for the former templar.

They managed to part, and keep their hands off each other as they pulled off armor and clothes; Cullen left Talise standing by her pile of clothes, pinning up her dark hair. He walked on bare feet to the tub, easing into the water with a moan of appreciation, and stretching his legs out in front of him, beneath the water.

Both heavily muscled arms were stretched across the edge of the tub, and he had propped his head on a mound of clean white towels. He heard a familiar, and telltale swishing of feet against stone, a barest hint of sound, and a grin curled his lips. A soft splash, a swirling of the water, and cool, slick skin slid over his leg, then his hip, and a familiar weight settled into his lap.

“Caught you off guard Commander.”

“No. I heard you walking.” His lashes lifted as Talise spoke, and he groaned. Even though he knew she would be naked, the sight of her, pink nipples already tightened atop her breasts, dark hair hanging down her back and over her shoulders, and her eyes, gleaming with arousal, drew a groan from him.

“Only because I didn’t care if you heard me or not”, She wasted no time, her arms curling into his shoulders and then sliding down his arms, unable to resist the corded muscles. She leaned to one side, stretching over him, taking the opportunity to press her breasts into his chest, bringing a sigh to her lips as she did so, and snatching up a small tub of liniment that she had brought in, along with a towel.

Cullen groaned at the feel of her against him, and his hands moved from the sides of the tub to run down her back, in a slow slide. His skin tingled, without asking he knew what she was doing, her fingers found the sore spots on his back and shoulders, and rubbed the liniment into his skin. Whiskey and honey eyes roamed over her delicate features as she continued her task.

She hummed when he started to touch her, his calloused fingers softened by the water, his touch feather light as he traced over the scar on her arm, his lips brushed against her shoulder, unable to help himself he slid his arms around her frame and gathered him to her, until they were pressed together.

Talise ran her hands down one of Cullen’s arms, over the muscles and scarred skin, to his hand, and she held it with both of hers, her talented fingers rubbing away the tightness in his palm. When she started to rub his hand, Cullen’s head dropped back to the towel he had piled next to the side of the tub, and he sighed, chills breaking out along his form, “Maker… You could do that all day.”

“I’m afraid we’ll get rather pruny if we stay in here all day”, she grinned, settling back into his lap as she continued to rub his hand, digging her thumbs into the fleshy part of his palm. When her soft folds rubbed against his length, already half-hard, she sucked in a breath, forcing herself to concentrate on rubbing his hand.

His hips arched to press his length against her folds, and he groaned again at the feel of her, warm and soft as she rubbed against him. When she started to work on his other hand, rubbing more liniment into his knuckles, his thick lashes drifted shut, half covering his warm amber gaze, “It would be worth it though.”

“Can I tell you something?” She whispered the words to him as her fingers rubbed into his palm, working the liniment into his skin, her blue eyes glittering with arousal as she looked up over their entwined fingers to his face, tipped backwards as he lay against the towel on the edge of the tub.

“Anything.”

“Valissia and I remarked on your hands once. How we liked them. I had no idea how much I’d come to like them when her and talked”.

Talise was spinning a sensual web around them, as she whispered to him, and he fell easily into it, letting his eyes close fully as he continued to rock and rub his hips against hers, “You like them more now?”

“Of course. That day in the garden, watching you play chess, I had no idea what these hands could do.” She let his hand go, and leaned into him, brushing her lips over his jaw, and his cheek, nipping at his earlobe, “Especially to me.”

Both of his hands, tingling from her touch, slid around her waist, pulling her harder to him when she nipped at his ear. At her urging he sat up, and she washed his hair, rubbed soap into his skin, and then rinsed him clean, her fingers trailing over his skin in slow, teasing movements. Before she could finish, he was doing the same for her, calloused fingers rubbing soap into her skin, cupping her breasts, and gently pinching her nipples until they peaked against his fingers. Talise hissed in a breath, and Cullen smirked up at her, continuing to stroke and pet her nipples until they were swollen.

Several times Talise had to pause, her soapy fingers digging into his biceps, or the taut muscles of his back as he continued to toy with her. When his hands left her arousal swollen breasts, she could not help the whimper of disappointment that left her, her lips forming into pout. The sound turned into a moan as Cullen’s lips pressed into her shoulder, then her neck, his teeth finding the delicate spots that made her shiver, his calloused fingers sliding down the muscles of her back and to the curves of her behind, squeezing her and pulling her harder against him.

All thought of soap and liniment fled from them both when their lips met, Talise’s lips parted against Cullen’s, her tongue rubbing against his provocatively. One of his powerful hands slid up to her hair, fingers sinking into the dark strands, heavy with water and clinging to her skin. Each flick of her tongue against his had his hips lifting, rubbing his length against her tender folds until waves splashed against the edge of the tub, and Cullen was groaning into the kiss.

When Cullen broke the kiss, heaving breath into his lungs, Talise sighed, her fingers coasting up his arms and linking around his neck, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. Cullen shifted, the former templar tightening one arm around Talise, as he rose from the tub, just enough to sit on the stone floor around the pool, warm from the same heat that warmed the water in the bath. She slipped from his lap, just as his arms reached for her, smiling wickedly as she sank to her knees, the warm water splashing around her high breasts as she looked up at Cullen.

He leaned back on his arms, groaning as she looked up at him, her lush pink lips inches from the swollen head of his cock. A shiver of anticipation ran through with him when her tongue darted out, licking daintily at him, tracing the veins in his length, and then sliding back up. Her summer bright gaze was locked on his as her tongue traced over his length, flicking over the shining drops that leaked from his length. Her kiss-swollen lips closed around the head of his cock, and she sucked briefly on him. Cullen groaned, his hips lifting to get more of him into her talented mouth, his efforts rewarded when more of his length slid into her mouth.

She continued to toy with him, sucking lazily on his cock for long moments, before letting him slip from her mouth. Her fingers curled around his length, slick from her ministrations, she stroked him while her lips coasted down his length, and she pressed tender, gentle kisses to the heavy sac that hung between his legs. Cullen cursed in response, the words tumbling out between heavy breaths, his arms starting to shake as they held his frame up. One arm reached for a towel, and he shoved it behind him, leaning back on it, his arms stretching up over his head in surrender to Talise as her lips worked their way back up his length.

The assassin grinned wickedly as she looked up at him, watching Cullen crumble into a heap of pleasured masculinity. Her lips parted, and she ran her tongue around the head of his cock in a slow swirl, continuing the motion until Cullen’s hips were jerking helplessly against her mouth. He groaned out a plea, a prayer, and she lifted her head, bright blue eyes colliding with his amber gaze, “Please… please Talise.”

“Dime que necesitas amor”, she answered, holding his gaze as her tongue continued to swirl over the head of his cock, her fingers stroking his length, “Tell me what you need.”

“Your mouth… sweetheart. I need your mouth on me”, he groaned when she answered him in Rivaini, the words sent chills down his spine, and his hips jerked upwards to her mouth once more, the movement succeeding in rubbing his cock against her full lips.

One slim fingered hand traced up his stomach, rubbing over the taut muscles, and then back down as she sucked him into her mouth, slowly sucking his length into her mouth. Cullen moaned, one hand capturing hers and holding it tightly, his head falling back to the towel, and his eyes falling shut. Each time she sucked on him the pleasure arced down his spine, and white spots exploded behind his spine. When she swallowed, the movement squeezing the head of his cock, he bit back a yell, his free hand scrabbling on the floor for purchase.

Talise lifted her head, slowly sucking and licking her way back up his length, before sucking on just the head of his cock. For long, pleasurable moments she continued, sucking her way back down his length until she could barely breathe, and then licking her way back up. Cullen’s hips lifted off the floor with her movements, trying to keep more his length in her mouth, only to groan in satisfaction when she would suck him further into her mouth.

He felt the pull of his climax rushing at him, and he groaned, reaching for Talise’s shoulders and pulling her away from his cock. She blinked up at Cullen confusedly, straightening and leaning into his arms as he pulled her to him, squeaking in surprise when he lifted her, standing in the tub and setting her down in the spot he had been in. Thick, calloused fingers traced over the tender folds between her legs, feeling her slickness mixing with the water that slid down her form in rivulets. Talise let out a moan, her thighs falling open, at Cullen’s touch.

Gently he toyed with her, rubbing over the swollen bud of nerves hidden within her folds, grinning when Talise whimpered and squirmed on the floor, the wet strands of her hair soaking into the towel she laid against. Cullen’s amber gaze gleamed with masculine pride and arousal as Talise squirmed, her thighs spread for him as he toyed with her, when one long finger slid into her folds, he groaned, she was so tight and warm, the sensation went straight to his cock.

She curled her fingers around his length, stroking him as he slipped another finger inside of her, their moans filling the steamy air of the bath. Cullen continued to stroke his fingers in and out of Talise’s tight folds, until she was swollen around his fingers, her arousal dripping down them. His thighs were shaking as he leaned into her, parting her thighs further, slipping his fingers from her and curling them around her own as she stroked his cock. Their fingers entwined, he slid closer to her, until the swollen head of his cock was pressed against the slick opening in her folds. Talise whimpered, cursing in Rivaini, her eyes locking on Cullen’s, their gazes meeting in a mix of heated amber and gleaming blue.

Slowly, hissing in a breath between gritted teeth, Cullen pushed into Talise. Inch by slow inch, he felt her swollen folds give, parting for him, her body squeezing him tightly as he sunk into her. He pulled her hand from his length, and lifted it to his neck, cursing as he sunk further into her, “You’re so tight. And warm.”

Talise could not help the moan that left her lips, as soon as he placed her hand on his neck, her fingers dug into the muscles, clenching in reflex, her legs lifting to wrap her thighs around him. Every time he sunk deeper within her, she tightened around him in a helpless response, both moaning into the humid air of the bath, and Cullen leaned forward, capturing her lips with his as he sunk fully into her. Her nails dug into the corded muscles of his shoulders as he started to move, her lips opening to his kiss. Both of his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, closer to the edge of the sunken tub, as he thrust into her, keeping his movements slow and steady.

The assassin hovered on the edge of her climax, her body shivering against Cullen’s frame. Each time he thrust into her, burying himself in one slow thrust, sparks of pleasure shot down her spine, and she closed her eyes, burying her face against his muscled shoulder, her fingers digging into his back. His movements in the tub created waves that splashed against the stone flooring, soaking the towels they had brought in, sending the bar of soap sliding across the flooring, all of it went unheeded.

He was so thoroughly wrapped up in Talise, buried to the hit inside of her slick folds, her legs and arms wrapped around him, that he lost track of himself. When she lifted her head from his shoulder, her gaze meeting his, he paused, unable to look away from her. Shuddering in her arms he lost himself in her summer bright gaze, the hand holding onto her hair sliding to cup her cheek, tracing over her skin with a reverent touch. His need for lyrium, his unquestioning beliefs, his guilt, his past, everything faded from view as he stared at her, unwilling to move to break the spell.

Nothing mattered for her, but the way the light sparkled off his whiskey and honey gaze, the feel of his skin against hers, the pounding of his heart against her fingers as they slid over his chest. Her skills as an assassin, her ambition, her drive, the pieces of her life, kept so separate for so long, everything was lost to him. Her fingers slid into his hair, the tawny strands curling from their bath, “Cullen… is it always going to be this way?”

“I don’t know…” The compulsion to move was overwhelming, and he rocked his hips against her, keeping his length buried within her, his breath catching in his throat as he moves, “It’s never been like this before.”

She nodded, wide-eyed as he moved, her hips lifting to meet his, a moan rising to her lips. Within a few moments she was hovering on the edge again, and she writhed against him, burying her face in his shoulder once more. His large, calloused hand slid down her back, pulling her towards him with each thrust; groaning as she clenched around him. Cullen kept his thrusts slow, kept his length buried within her, and he dropped tender kisses over her lips, her cheeks, across her forehead.

Talise shivered and squirmed against his frame, arching to press her body against his, gasping when her breasts pressed to his muscled chest. She had been so close to the edge when he slowed down, her body ached with the need for more, her legs tightened around his waist. He smiled against her forehead, listening to her soft whimpers as he moved slowly within her, almost slipping from her body, only to slowly push his way back in. A few more slow, sure strokes and Cullen groaned, she was squeezing him so tightly, every thrust sent white hot sparks down his spine.

His callouses drug against her skin as his hand slid down her breasts, over her stomach, until his fingers could rub and flick at the swollen bundle of nerves nestled in the top of her slit. The other hand grabbed her hip, holding her still as he continued his slow strokes, “With me Talise. Need you with me.”

“I am…” She squirmed beneath his hand, sucking in a breath as his fingers rubbed over her. Hovering on the edge, balanced precariously, she needed one more thrust, needed him to press up against that sweet spot within her when he slid into her.

“Good girl…” The words were murmured hotly in her ear as he continued to toy with her, keeping his thrusts intentionally slow. Every whimper from her, the way her nails scored red lines down his back, every time she squeezed around him, pulled him closer to his climax, and he groaned into her ear, his fingers keeping up their pleasurable work.

Talise reached her climax without warning, it simply washed over her, she spasmed around his length, her thighs tightened around his waist, and her nails dug into his broad shoulders. She buried her face on the spot between his shoulder and neck, groaning his name as her hips lifted in helpless response to his thrusts. Cullen moaned, his hand sliding from her hip to her back, pulling her to him and burying his length in her, holding still as she fluttered around him. It was too much, he was too sensitive, too swollen with need, and then it was just enough, the first sparks brightened his vision. The thought crossed his mind that he needed to pull out from her folds, but like every time, the siren’s song of her body was too much to bear, and instead he pushed his hips harder into hers, letting her body milk his climax from him.

With his cheek pressed to the top of her head, cradling her body to his with one large hand pressed to her back, he groaned, his knees wobbling in the warm water of the bath. When the last spurt of seed leaked from him, he sucked in a deep breath, his arm tightening around her frame and keeping her pressed to him. Talise whimpered and moaned through her climax, prolonged as Cullen pushed into her folds one final time, her body welcoming his climax with more spasms around his length. For timeless moments they stayed where they were, pressed together, Talise did nothing more than lift her face from his shoulder, and press her lips to his; Cullen pressed tender kiss after tender kiss to her full lips.

Finally, he slid from her body, his fingers rubbing over her swollen clit one final time, smiling as she jerked in his arms. Talise murmured a protest as he slipped from her, her arms tightening around his neck, pressing herself to him more tightly, and Cullen slid his arms around her back, cradling her body to his. They continued to kiss each other, run their fingers over each other, letting go only to rise from the tub, or get dressed, and then coming back together. It took several moments to get dressed, Cullen found himself tugging Talise back to him after he pulled on his leather breeches, Talise could not resist dropping kisses over his back as he bent over to pull his boots on.

Entwined in each other, they stood in the doorway of his private bath until a passing servant pulled them from their reverie. Cullen remained close to Talise as she walked back through the keep, mostly ignoring the nobles and dignitaries gathered there. Their damp hair, Talise’s undone tunic shirt, the soft blush that darkened the tops of Cullen’s cheeks all gave them away as lovers, the Orlesian nobles twittered and whispered about weddings as they passed. He had wanted to remain quiet about their relationship, he was keenly aware of how many people watched them, gossiped about them; but in the moment, he did not care, Talise had offered forgiveness, an understanding of what it felt like to carry regrets.

In Cullen’s quarters, he held her to him while he read through the latest batch of reports, stopping to run his fingers down her back or over her delicate features. Talise managed to get her boots and socks off one handed, she was intent on staying as close to him as he was on keeping her to him. When one of Leliana’s scouts appeared in Cullen’s doorway, she took the reports and letters, reading them from the safety of Cullen’s arms. The stars twinkled in a midnight blue sky when a yawning Talise looked up from the chair behind Cullen’s desk, watching him issue the night’s orders to a group of soldiers, his task done, Cullen pulled her to the ladder, and then followed her up it.

In a few moments, they had pulled their clothes off, Talise taking the linen tunic Cullen wore beneath his quilted gambeson, tugging it over her frame before it had a chance to grow cold. Her insistence on sleeping in his shirts never failed to bring a smile to his lips, and he held her face in his hands, gently pressing kiss after kiss into her lush lips. When they fell into his bed, he kept one arm wrapped around her, and they fell asleep watching the stars through the gaping hole in his roof, Talise pressed as tightly as she could to him, the hand resting on his heart surrounded by his larger, calloused one.

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

It was the sounds that work her up; sooty lashes lifted once, twice, three times before her sky-touched eyes were open. The scent of oakmoss and elder flower, mixed with water lilies, hung in the air, and it brought a smile to her porcelain smooth face, it was their smell now, hers and Cullen, mixed together. Still smiling, she lifted a hand to her chocolate dark hair, tugging on the tangled mass of hair that covered her bare back and shoulders, pushing it away it away as she listened to Cullen. He was downstairs, she could hear the crisp sound of papers being sorted, the creak of the doors as a soldier walked in, the thud of boots against the ancient stone floors. When she rolled from the bed, landing soundlessly, a wince married her forehead, the floor was chilly against her bare feet.

A scout leaned in through one of the doors, propped open to let a breeze in, and he glanced up at the balcony where Talise was, uncertainty in his eyes, “Begging your pardon Commander.”

“Yes? Do you have the reports from Leliana then?” A tawny eyebrow lifted over Cullen’s warm honeyed gaze as he looked up at the scout.

“Not yet ser. But…” once more the scout’s glance darted upstairs. He was curious, it was common knowledge that Talise and Cullen were together, and she had yet to be seen this morning. Wondering whether the assassin was upstairs in the commander’s bed, the sentence hung in the air.

“But what?” Cullen knew exactly what the scout was doing, Talise had the same natural curiosity. That did little to ease his irritation, he had been considering going upstairs to wake her up himself; finding her curled up, soft and warm from sleep in his bed, was one of few great pleasures he afforded himself.

“There’s a Magdalena de Villanueva here. To see Talise.” The scout stumbled over the exotic name, Talise could hear his hesitation as he spoke.

Talise bit back a shriek at the name, grabbing at the first clothes she could find, and yanking them on. Her knee-high leather boots sailed from the top of the ladder, missing the scout and Cullen, and she followed, half-sliding, half-falling down the ladder, landing on socked feet. Her hair was still in disarray, her shirt untucked, the hem dangled well past her hips and close towards her knees, as well as a pair of leather leggings. Hopping on one foot, she shoved the boots on, and then sprinted for the door.

Cullen watched Talise fling herself from his bedroom, such as it was, with a bemused look on his face. His amber gaze took in Talise’s lack of care about her clothing, even less effort than she normally put forth, and briefly he wondered what she was going to do when she bann. No noble would be caught dead traipsing around in worn leather boots, or a tunic that wouldn’t even stay up over both of her shoulders at the same time.

“De Villanueva you said?” the former templar blinked, looking back at the scout, who nodded in response, “Maker’s breath… that’s her aunt.”

Heedless of the looks, or the gossip, Talise burst from Cullen’s quarters, running down the steps, and across the perpetually muddy courtyard. Her cheeks were flushed when she ran through the open doors, she had taken the steps to the doors of the main keep two at a time, and her muddy boots nearly slipped out from underneath her as she came to a stop on the stone floor.

Standing in the main hall, talking animatedly to Josephine, stood a small woman. Her hair was as dark as a raven’s wing, silver strands woven throughout; the delicate features of her face were startlingly like Talise, she even had the same small hands. Cullen stepped up to Talise as she stood in the main keep, and she looked up at him, her summer bright gaze shimmering with tears. His heart clenched as she blinked, and the tears slid down her cheeks in tiny silvery waterfalls; one of his gloved hands reached for her, curling around her fingers and squeezing hers gently.

Magdalena turned, caught sight of Talise, and with a murmured apology to Josephine, she stepped past her belongings, including an intricately carved ebony staff, decorated with jingling charms and small gemstones. A sob escaped Talise, and she leaned into Cullen, half-burying her face in his deep red surcoat, watching Magdalena walk towards her with a look of disbelief in her gaze.

Cullen felt the tremor that ran through Talise’s form, and one arm slid around her waist, holding her to him as Magdalena approached them. When she came to a stop, holding her arms out to Talise, the assassin clung tightly to Cullen, she peered up at him through tear-clouded eyes, seeking his reassurance, and Cullen felt the moment all the way to his bones. His hands shook just slightly as he lifted his arm, pushing her gently to Magdalena. Talise crumpled as soon as her aunt pulled her in for a hug, her knees wobbling as her tears overtook her.

“Mi reina. I’m right here. I’ve got you”, one hand slid soothingly through Talise’s hair and down her back, the other cupped a smooth cheek, “I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry Talise.”

“I’m all alone.” Talise hiccupped the words out. The grief she had fought back, buried in the bloody work of an assassin, came rushing back to her. Standing in the main keep of Skyhold, she was not Ghost, not a Rivaini-trained assassin, not a would-be noble; she was as broken-hearted as she had been the night Cullen found her in the chapel.

“Child of my heart, you are not alone. I know you brought Valissia and Amelia with you, and they are family”, Magdalena continued to rub soothing circles on Talise’s back, her dark gaze, almost black, caught Cullen’s. As soon as the seer’s dark gaze connected with Cullen’s, her eyes widened, a flash of some deep-seated knowledge flickering with in her gaze, before she drew back to look at Talise, cupping the assassin’s tear streaked face in one wrinkled hand, “And this templar you wrote of. I know you Talise, there is more than what you tell me.”

Cullen flushed at Magdalena’s words, even as he wondered over the peculiar look she had given him; she seemed to know him, seemed to somehow see through him, past his armor, the sharp-eyed look she had cast on him left him feeling like he had no secrets left. Josephine smoothly offered them tea in her office, the Antivan ambassador looked knowingly at Cullen as he followed Talise and her aunt.  

It took several minutes for Talise to stop crying, her face buried in her aunt’s small shoulder. Cullen and Josephine did most of the talking, explaining the events at the Conclave and Haven, and what had happened since. Magdalena listened intently, rubbing Talise’s back through her tangled mass of hair.

Once Talise had calmed down, her tears wiped away with wrinkled hands adorned in swirling patterns of deep green, a door creaked open. Two sets of eyes, a pair bright as a new spring grass, and one pair reminiscent of dark storm clouds, peeked in. Magdalena opened her arms, and both Valissia and Amelia tumbled into Josephine’s office, their reaction the same as Talise’s. For long moments, the Rivaini seer had her arms full of the women she had come to regard as her own, and she hummed a lullaby to them, heedless of Cullen and Josephine, until both mages were calm once more.

“After the Circle at Dairsmuid was Annulled, Magdalena was feared dead her for some time”, Josephine whispered to Cullen, offering him a cup of tea.

“She’s a…” Cullen blinked, holding the delicate cup in his large hand, golden eyes tracing over Talise as she sat on the arm of the couch, Valissia holding on to one of her slim legs.

“Yes, she’s a mage”, Josephine passed another silk handkerchief to Amelia, who blotted at her damp face with it, whispering a thank you.

As Cullen and Josephine talked, Talise slid out from Valissia’s grasp, and off the arm of the couch with an easy grace, walking across the carpeted room to Cullen. Josephine and Valissia shared a grin as Talise moved, their smiles broadening as Cullen lifted an arm and curled it around Talise. Despite his own concerns, and against his better judgment, the commander could not keep himself from reaching for Talise, the sight of her tear-streaked face was more than he could withstand. He could not bring himself to care about the whispering nobles and diplomats in the main keep, the gossip in the barracks, or anyone who would say anything in the moment.

Magdalena managed to give both Amelia and Valissia equal amounts of attention, soothing them and calming their tears. The mages filled in the last few blanks, as Magdalena listened intently, nodding at their ideas and theories, “This Corypheus, his reach is long. Even with all the upheaval in Rivain, we’ve heard of him. He is a threat we all need to be focused on.”

“We’ve all been working very hard, to do just that”, Josephine answered, passing a cup of tea to Amelia, who wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks.

“I had already left Dairsmuid when I received word of Jordan’s death. Truth be told, I knew he was gone, I had seen him in a dream.” Magdalena took a damp handkerchief from Amelia, and blotted at Valissia’s reddened cheeks, “Mija stop. Everyone is fine, we’re all safe here.”

Talise sniffled, tears pooling in her bright gaze at the mention of her brother, “We heard about the annulment.”

“I sent you a letter letting you know I was safe and coming to you, but it must not have made it through.” The seer sighed, shaking her head, “I’m sorry to have worried you all for as long as I did. Talise’s contact in Rivain was in the Circle when it was annulled, and I was unsure if you had others. And I was unwilling to risk revealing your identity by looking for anyone else who could get word to you.”

Talise nodded, pressing her face against the breastplate Cullen wore, the cold metal soothing her tear-swollen face. Cullen’s gloved hand cupped the back of her head, holding her gently, and she sighed as she breathed in the familiar smell of elder flower, oakmoss, and leather. The movement was not missed by Magdalena, who arched a dark eyebrow at the pair; and then back to Amelia and Valissia, pressing gentle kisses to their foreheads before she stood up from the couch.

“I need some time with Talise…  I know what I say will not leave this room, but I also know that my niece keeps her secrets well-hidden.” Magdalena held an arm out to Talise, and slowly, with no small amount of reluctance, Talise slid from Cullen, her fingers lingering in his, before she was pulled from Josephine’s office.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now, mi reina. Tell me about Cullen.” Magdalena stood atop the tower in one corner of Skyhold, what had become one of Talise’s favorite spots. With a knowing look in her eyes, the Rivaini watching her niece as she spoke.

Talise turned a distinct shade of pink at her aunt’s questioning, and kept her bright gaze firmly on the snow-capped mountains that surrounded the ancient keep, “What do you want to know?”

“He is your lion?” A gentle hand stroked through Talise’s dark hair, combing out the tangles from the chocolate dark mass, “Mija, did you not comb your hair?”

“No, I was just waking up when you got here”, Talise, sitting cross legged in front of Magdalena, held still as her aunt went to work on her hair, “You remember the lion?”

“Talise, let me tell you something. I have been dreaming of you since before you were born, and you are always with a lion. He has changed over the years, he has a scar on his face now, and sometimes he walks with a limp. But he is still a powerful creature, and he still protects you in your dreams.” As she spoke, Magdalena dug in the pockets of her skirts, a triumphant smile curling her lips as she withdrew a small comb from one.

“I don’t dream of him every night.” As her aunt combed her hair out, the dark strands gleaming as they were unknotted, Talise chewed nervously at one fingernail.

“No, I know you don’t. But he is always with you.” Magdalena leaned down to smack Talise’s hand away from her mouth, before going back to her job, working the comb through her niece’s hair, “Does he please you?”

“Maggie!!!” Talise blushed again, this time the flush heated even the tops of her ears.

A chuckle escaped the Rivaini seer as she continued her work, “I’m serious Talise. A man needs to worship the woman he cares about. If he is not willing to please her, then he is not worth having.”

“Yes, he does.” Still blushing, Talise nodded, her gaze darting back to the tower over the portcullis, where Cullen’s quarters were.

“That tells me that beneath that cool exterior lies a warm heart. You are a passionate soul, you would attract a passionate man.” Magdalena followed Talise’s gaze, and them smiled down at her niece, tilting the assassin’s head back gently, “Are you his equal? Or his play thing? These Fereldens have such strange ideas about a woman’s place in the world. Does he treat you like they do?”

Talise shook her head no, looking up at her aunt with crystalline blue eyes, “No. He respects my opinions. He worries when I leave, but he doesn’t ask me to stay.”

Magdalen nods, tracing a finger over one of Talise’s dark eyebrows, “I worry about you and your… work. All the time. He knows then, that you are the Ghost?”

“Si Maggie. He knows.” With a nod Talise leans back against her aunt’s legs, closing her eyes as she heaves a sigh.

“Are you taking the draughts then?”, Magdalena rubbed the top of Talise’s head as she spoke, gazing out at the mountains around them.

“Twice a week, just like you taught me”, Talise blushed again, thankful she did not have to meet her aunt’s knowing gaze. Magdalena was able to read Talise, and the assassin knew she could not keep even the most hidden of her wants from her aunt.

Her aunt let out a deep sigh, a tinge of regret coloring her words, “Pity. You would make beautiful babies with that man. No wait… you will make beautiful babies with him.”

“You’ve seen that?”

“I’ve seen you walk with a lion in my dreams, your belly swollen with a child. So yes, I’ve seen it. What’s more, you want it.” Magdalena continued to run her tattooed hands through Talise’s waterfall of dark hair. The want, the almost palpable need, was unmistakable in Talise’s voice, and the Rivaini tilted her niece’s head back to look into her gaze once more, “Listen mi reina, the path to your happiness is a bloody one. You will have to fight through a war, towards what you want. It will take all your skills and strengths, as well as all his, to get you there. But if you are willing to fight for it, all your heart wants will be there, when this is through.”

For a long moment Talise said nothing, but hope started to gleam in her summer bright gaze. Long sooty lashes lowered as she blinked, before she looked up to her aunt once more, “Are you staying?”

“I am not sure. The templars will be nervous to have a Rivaini seer here. Some of the mages will be as well. I thought I might stay in Nightreach, I can help Patrick there, and be closer than Rivain if you need me”, Magdalena ran an affectionate hand through Talise’s hair once more, “Before I forget, I brought you something from Nightreach.”

“You did?” Talise pushed herself to her feet, tugging her hair back from her finely boned face as she did, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“A very angry something. With sharp claws.”

Talise frowned for a moment, and then her eyes went wide with shock, “Demon?”

“Si. I brought that cursed bird with me from Nightreach. I am convinced the only thing that animal cares for in this world is you.” Magdalena nodded, sighing at the effort it had taken to get the animal to Skyhold.

“And food.” The assassin grinned, one hand rising to shove a handful of dark hair out of her eyes.

“She has not been hunting as much as he should. The gamekeeper has been feeding him chicken and lamb, but that will make her fat if she isn’t hunting.”

“How was she on the trip?”

“Quiet. Which is unusual for her. This is the longest you and she have been parted since he was a hatchling.”

“I need to go see her. Is she in the barn already?”

Magdalena pointed an arm up, towards the cloud-studded skies, and Talise lifted her head, her eyes searching the sky. She lifted one hand to her lips, and let out a shrill, piercing whistle. Several moments later, a dot appeared, growing larger, taking the shape of an eagle, plummeting from the sky. At the last seeming possible second, it spread wings wider than Talise was tall, opened large feet with lethal talons topping each toe, and it landed just in front of the assassin. Demon cocked her head to one side, and then the other, taking Talise in with a set of piercing golden eyes.

Talise dropped to her knees, sitting in front of the black and gray eagle, her bright gaze full of sorrow as she looked at the bird, “I’m sorry Demon. I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

Demon did not respond, her talons clicking on the stones as she shifted from one foot to the other. Wide wings opened, and she flapped them several times, creating small gusts of wind that blew Talise’s hair back away from her gaze.

“I left you in good hands though. The gamekeeper and Patrick, you had all the forests to hunt in, and farmland to keep clear of pests.”

Clear, bright, golden eyes peered at her, shining with a remarkable intelligence, and then Demon snapped at Talise, her large beak coming close to Talise’s fingers.

Talise jerked her fingers back, narrowly missing being bitten as Demon snapped a few more times at her, her beak snapping closed with ominous sounds, “I’m sorry. If I promise to let you hunt ravens the next time I go out, am I forgiven?”

At the mention of ravens, the bird’s demeanor changed, and she hopped the last few steps to Talise, rubbing her head against Talise’s fingers. As Talise ran her fingers gently over Demon’s head, and then her wings, flexing them out gently and inspecting the long flight feathers, Magdalena watched, shaking her head ruefully at the sight, “I don’t know how you do it mi reina. I’ve never seen someone tame one of them, yet Demon eats out of your hand. Literally.”

“And I have the scar to prove it”, Talise grinned, moving to sit cross-legged on the stone rampart, letting Demon hop into her lap. The assassin winced as the eagle dug long talons into her leg, but she bore the abuse, unwilling to move her beloved companion.

“Your templar is pacing in his office, I can see him from here. I need to speak with him. And you, mi reina, need to take Demon out and let her hunt”, Magdalena lifted her small chin, a duplicate of Talise’s, towards the tower where Cullen’s quarters were. The doors were all open, and the former templar could be seen pacing in his office.

Talise nodded in agreement, dusting her leggings off as she stood, “I’ll have to ask the blacksmith and see if he has some gloves I can borrow, unless you packed some?”

 “Si, I brought several. Demon pulled the stitching out of one of them on the way here,” Magdalena pushed herself to her feet, groaning as her joints popped, and made her way towards Cullen’s office. The seer pauses, turning back to her niece, who sits cross-legged on the stone rampart, holding an eagle in her lap, “Also, we should speak of Denerim, and that title Jordan bequeathed you. And…. Alistair. Soon Mija.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magdalena de Villanueva stood in front of Cullen, arms folded over her chest, appraising Cullen through dark eyes that shone with a knowledge and wisdom gained through her long years. For his part, Cullen felt his stubbled covered cheeks heat in a blush as he looked back at Talise’s aunt, but he kept his back straight as he met her gaze. He had the distinct feeling he was being judged, weighed and measured as the seer looked at him.

Her resemblance to Talise was startling, but while the assassin was as pale as a porcelain doll, Magdalena was tan, her swarthy complexion revealing her ancestry, as did the tattoos across her face, and down the backs of her hands, swirling patterns that Cullen could make no sense of, even as he was curious about them. The striking looks revealed what Talise would look like as she aged, but while the assassin was watchful, Magdalena radiated a calm, deep wisdom.

“So… you are in love with my niece.” Without any preamble, the Rivaini seer cut right to the point of her visit, watching Cullen intently as she spoke.

The blush on his face heated further, and Cullen nodded.

“She tells me you treat her well. Every man should be willing to go down on his knees to please a woman.”

“I… uhhh.. I mean…”

“By the spirits, you Fereldens. I know you are taking my niece to bed, she is a beautiful, passionate woman. If you did not want to, then I would think something is wrong with you. But a relationship cannot be built on sex alone, Commander. Tell me, why do you love Talise?” It did not escape Magdalena as she spoke, that one of Talise’s combs was sitting atop the commander’s desk. Her dark eyed gaze took in the tortoise-shell comb, but she kept from remarking on it.

It took several moments for the flush to fade from his cheeks, and he gathered his thoughts, “Her heart. We have a Qunari here, and when he was made Tal Vashoth, she stayed with him, talked about things with him. We have this… creature, his name is Cole. He’s not a spirit, not a demon, at least I’m told so, and not human. Most everyone is terrified of him.”

“Yes, I sensed his presence when I got here.” Magdalena nodded as Cullen spoke, moving to sit in a nearby chair.

“Talise has taken to training him, but Cole likes animals. She will sit with him in the barn, while he holds the cats there. She found an injured nug once, and brought it here to Cole, who nursed it back to health.” Once the commander started talking about Talise, once he got over his reluctance, the words came easily to him, and a fond smile curved his lips as he spoke.

“When she was a little girl, she would do the same. She was always nursing some baby animal back to health.” Magdalena smiled at Cullen, folding her tattooed hands on her lap, still watching him intently.

“The way she fights is a miracle. Fast, and fluid, with no qualms about cheating to win.” One large gloved hand motioned to the dummy against a wall, studded with expertly placed knives.

Magdalena snorts at this, nodding her head, “You are the first to call it a miracle. But she is exceedingly talented.”

“She can beat me at chess.”

“And?”

“What do you want me to say?” Cullen frowned, feeling almost as if he is failing a test. The importance of the seer on Talise was plain for anyone to see, and he desperately wanted things to go well.

“The truth Cullen. I need to know why you love Talise. She is all the family I have left. I have lived to see my siblings die, and Catherine was the only one of us to have children. My parents are long gone, my baby sister and her husband are gone, and so is my only nephew.” Although she sat calmly in her chair, almost as still as water on a pond, Magdalena watched Cullen intently, knowledge gleaming in her gaze. Something was there, a glimpse of some hidden secret, and it showed as she studied the former templar.

Cullen nodded, one large hand rubbing at the back of his neck in a familiar notion, “Talise has told me she had just you, and no one else in her family left.”

“What do you want most Commander? When all this is said and done, when this Corypheus is defeated, what will you want? Will you go back to the templars?” Still she watched him carefully with each question, her dark gaze tracing over his features.

“No. No, my time with them is done. I haven’t given much thought to the future, to be honest.” He shook his head no at her words.

“Your survival, the survival of this Inquisition, and Talise’s survival has taken precedence. I understand.” Magdalena nodded at Cullen’s words, her gaze understanding.

“I don’t care where she goes. I would follow her to Nightreach, to Rivain, to some far corner of the globe. I just want her.” He flushed at his words, as he realized he had revealed more of his feelings than he intended to under the Rivaini’s questioning.

“All of her? Even Ghost?” Magdalena found herself holding her breath after she asked her question. So much hung in the balance for Talise, in this moment. Wrinkled fingers curled into her palms as she studied the commander, keeping her gaze calm.

Cullen nodded in response, leaning one hip against his desk. His warm honey gaze earnest and honest as he looked at Magdalena, sitting in his chair, “Even Ghost.”

Magdalena visibly relaxed at Cullen’s answer, her shoulders leaning further against the back of the chair, “She has become all of herself. For too long she has kept her life separate, and now, I see a whole, complete person in her. I believe I have you to thank Cullen.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You defended her when she stood for Judgment, did you not?”

“Yes…”

 “She tells me you worry about her when she works.”

“Of course, I do. She deliberately puts herself in harm’s way, tracking down filth and evil people.” He kept a carafe of water on his desk, and one gloved hand reached for it, pouring a glass and sliding it across the gleaming wood to Magdalena. When she took it, he poured himself a second glass.

“Put a baby in her belly and that will stop.” Magdalena held the glass in her hand, smirking up at Cullen as she spoke.

Cullen choked on the water he was drinking, bending over his desk as he coughed, and Magdalena laughed at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

“I… we’re not… ready. We’re not ready.” The flush that darkened his cheeks slid up to his hairline, and even made the tops of his ears hot. Unable to meet the seers gaze, he kept his amber eyes firmly fixed on the desk, wincing as he remembered the night he took Talise on top of it.

“Cullen, listen to me. If the life is meant to be, no draught will keep it at bay. Catherine was taking the draughts, before Talise. She was shocked when she realized she was pregnant again. Talise has been unexpected since she was given life.” Putting aside her mirth at Cullen’s response to the idea of a baby, Magdalena leaned forward, pinning the commander with an intense look from her dark eyes.

He nodded, the blush returning to his cheeks.

At Cullen’s blush, Magdalena rolled her eyes, heaving a sigh as she leaned back in her chair, “Ay, stop blushing Ferelden. You love her, she loves you, it is natural you should want each other.”

“You’re her family.” His gaze finally lifts to Magdalena’s, and he winces when he sees her exasperated look.

“And? I’m Rivaini. I don’t believe she is tarnished by having sex before marriage. I don’t believe in waiting until marriage. Life is too short to not experience all of it, as often as you can.” Taking a sip from her glass, she sets it on his desk, gesturing with her hands to the air around her, “Listen well Cullen, the spirits have spoken of you. And her. You both can have all you want, from and with each other. But you will have to be willing to fight for it. Talise will do everything she can think of to keep you safe. Will you do the same?”

“I would do whatever it takes to keep her safe through this war.”

“And after? If you marry her, you will likely be Lord Rutherford.”

The color slid from Cullen’s cheekbones as he thought on it, and he blinked several times, “I’m not noble. I’m common born.”

“So is she. She will be Bann because of Jordan, not because she has… what do you Ferelden’s say, blue blood. Alistair will accede to her wishes, they were the same as Jordan, she is not asking for any different.”

 “Tell me, why have your kept her a secret? You sneak out onto the battlements to steal kisses like teenagers. She slinks from your room in the morning before anyone can see her”, Magdalena fixed a dark look on Cullen as they stand in his office, “Yet everyone knows. The Orlesian nobles were twittering about you and her this morning when I arrived.”

“She’s an agent of the Inquisition. I’m the Commander. I don’t want anyone thinking that she has special status because of me.” The response seemed false even to Cullen, and he fought off another wince at the words. At the time they had agreed to keep their relationship a secret it had seemed the right thing to say, but under Magdalena’s withering stare, he found himself doubting the wisdom of it.

“She has special status because she is the Ghost of Ferelden. Everyone knows that. And if they think otherwise, they are too stupid to have their opinion held in any sort of regard.” One hand, with its trace work of tattoos across her sepia toned fingers, dismissed Cullen’s argument.

“I’m not used to having my personal business broadcast over an entire keep’s worth of people. You wouldn’t believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks.” He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. The status of his relationship with Talise had bothered him, the feeling he was lying, about her, had been a source of struggle for him since the first time he had kissed her. The idea of everyone knowing about them, brought a dark flush to his cheeks.

“Trust me Commander, a man with your looks has been talked about for years. You’ve just never paid attention to it.” Magdalena grinned at him,

The color on his cheeks darkened further at Magdalena’s response, and he stammered for a moment, “Yes… yes… well… It was one thing to not know they were talking, and another thing entirely to know it now.”

“Is Talise worth it?”

“Of course, she is.”

“Then you need to make things more permanent. If you do not stake your claim on her, someone will.” With a natural grace to her movements that reminded Cullen of Talise, Magdalena slid from her chair, stepping around the desk to stand in front of him as she spoke.

“You… make a good argument. Just so you know, my reluctance to be more open about my relationship with Talise has never been a slight towards her”, he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck once more, meeting Magdalena’s gaze with his honeyed one, “I will never be good enough for her, and I know that. But I would willingly spend the rest of my life trying to be.”

Magdalena nodded at his words, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth, “Commander, I have decided something.”

“What is that?”

The seer rose to her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek, “You are more than worthy of my niece. You will prove my dreams true. You will get her through this war, and she will do the same for you. You were fated.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“Welcome to the family. Now go find my niece, she took her blasted pet of hers out to hunt.”

“Pet?” Cullen frowned slightly, his tawny brows drawing briefly together.

A smirk curved the old Rivaini seer’s lips, causing the lines on either side of her mouth to deepen, “You haven’t met her yet then? Oh Ferelden, be prepared, that bird of Talise’s is a demon in disguise. And let me make it clear, welcome to the family. _Lord Rutherford_.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talise's eagle Demon is based on a martial eagle. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martial_eagle

Magdalena’s words had been on his mind as he followed the path Talise took out of Skyhold; he had not planned on a future, had expected to die when he stopped the lyrium, expected to die for the Inquisition. Talise represented a future, something to work for, to fight for, beyond the Inquisition, a reason to push back against the lyrium, to break the chains that bound him to it.

The Rivaini seer was right though, his reluctance to be open about his relationship and his feelings for Talise meant that many would consider her to be free. She was too important to him to be treated like a dirty secret. At the same time, the idea that everyone would know his feelings, would know everything, sent a hot flush to his cheeks. Talise might soon be noble, and anything permanent with her would mean a title, and the responsibilities that came with it, the idea made his brows draw together as he followed the path down the mountain.

His heart thudded painfully against his ribs at the thought of Talise with someone else. Beautiful as she was, with a title, a prosperous keep as well, she would be hotly pursued, as soon as she swore fealty to the king, the offers would come. The idea of Talise with anyone, giving to another man what she gave freely to him, of another man seeing the wild, passionate side of her, sent a hot spike of jealously through Cullen, and his fingers clenched so hard on the reins his mount snorted in irritation. Magdalena had backed him into a corner, he realized, either make his feelings for Talise plain, and in the open, or lose her. Perhaps even lose her to a king, Alistair had a penchant for pretty girls, and the nobility were clamoring for a wife and an heir; who better to pick than Talise, someone he already knew, someone who’s family had already given so much to Ferelden. 

A screech drew the Commander’s amber gaze upwards, and his gaze tracked over the bird that was soaring in the sky. It dived into the trees just beyond where he stood, and Cullen heard a familiar voice shrieking. Torn between curiosity and concern, he walked through the trees, into a small clearing.

Talise stood in the middle of the clearing, a bow in one hand, a small quiver of arrows at her back, pale sunshine wove gleaming strands of gold and red through her hair, still wearing the oversized shirt and leather leggings from earlier.  An eagle was circling her, diving towards her and then pulling away at the last moment. The bird rose higher into the trees, and circled over Talise a few times; the wide neckline of her shirt slid downwards over her back, and Cullen saw her muscles shift and bunch as she knocked an arrow, and took careful aim. Hanging in the sunshine, the eagle circled, once, twice, while Talise tracked it, fingers tight around the arrow, and as the eagle passed over her dark head, it dropped the small, furry creature it was holding in its talons. The arrow whined as it sailed through the air, spearing the dead animal and then dropping to the ground, followed closely by the eagle, large wings opened to slow its descent, and the bird of prey landed atop the animal, holding its wings over its prize protectively. Once on the ground, the bird of prey wasted no time tearing into the creature, lifting its now bloody beak and holding a small scrap of meat out to Talise as she walked towards it.

“No thank you Demon, I prefer my meat cooked. Just don’t break the arrow please”, Talise ran an affectionate hand over the back of the eagle, her gloved hands ruffling black feathers gently.

“You really named it Demon?” Cullen lifted a brow in question as he walked into the clearing. When he spoke, the eagle lifted its head, and regarded him through a pair of bright golden eyes, tilting its head one way and then the other. Cullen approached cautiously, with a wing-span longer than Talise was, the bird was enormous, with talons that could easily cut to the bone.

Talise nodded, running her fingers down the bird’s back once more, finally lifting her summer bright gaze to Cullen, “I named her that after she bit me the first time.”

“She’s a she then?” Cullen came to a stop beside Talise, one gloved hand sifting through her dark hair, unable to resist the waterfall of dark chocolate strands. He was struck, always, the moment she first looked at him, her bright cerulean gaze drawing him in.

“Yes. I rescued her when she was a hatchling, and raised her. They’re native to Rivain. But she’s lived at Nightreach almost all of her life.” Talise reached for the arrow that she had shot through Demon’s meal, tugging it free and wiping it clean on the grass, “Sera let me borrow some of her arrows, but made me swear to bring them all back.”

“So, you’re not just good with daggers then?” Cullen raised a brow in question at Talise.

“I’m not as good as Sera with a bow Or Leliana, for that matter. I get the job done though.” In response to his question, Talise lifted one slim shoulder in a shrug, “Demon helps me practice.”

“I didn’t know you had a pet.” Cullen motioned back to Demon with a gloved hand. At his words, Demon lifted her head, blood dripping in crimson droplets from her beak, and studied him intently. The former templar suddenly had the feeling that the eagle understood every word he was saying, and he was being judged just as carefully as Magdalena had done.

Talise shook her head no at his words, “She’s not a pet. She’s more of a companion. But an animal like this isn’t a pet. Demon can take care of herself perfectly fine, and would do well in the wild. She’s with me because she chooses to be.”

“How did you rescue her?” Cullen watched Demon as he spoke, feeling sorry for the small animal Demon had caught, and was now tearing happily into.

“The eagles lay two, sometimes three eggs. The last chick to hatch almost never does well, they are often picked on by the older chicks. Demon was the last one to hatch out of a clutch of 3, her parents had been nestling next to Maggie’s home for years.” Talise cast an affectionate look back at the eagle, a smile lifting her full lips.

“You saved her?” The idea of Talise saving an eagle sent a pang through Cullen’s heart; she was always saving something, or someone, striving to maintain the balance she so admired.

“I did. I had been watching the nest for days, and she was getting weaker and weaker. I waited until the male was on the nest, he was smaller than the female, and then I climbed the tree they were in, and grabbed her out”, she held up her hand, with the scar that ran across the back of it, “And Demon’s father gave me this as a reward.”

“That’s how you got it? I always thought you got it doing some job.” Cullen reached for her hand, tracing over the scar, it almost looked like it had been done with a dagger, or maybe the tip of a sword, rather than a bird.

“Their beaks are incredibly sharp. I let Demon sleep on my bed in a box, with one of my shirts, and hand-fed her. She was almost big enough to fly when I got back to Nightreach. And we’ve been together ever since”, as Talise spoke, Demon, who had been ripping through the small animal with gusto, lifted her head and stretched it towards Talise, “No Demon. You eat.”

Once more the bird of prey had lifted her head, holding another scrap of meat deftly stripped of fur and skin, and she had stretched her head towards Talise. At the assassin’s refusal, Demon moved, hopping agilely away from her kill, and towards the two of them. Holding the strip of flesh in her bloody beak, Demon looked up at Cullen, tilting her head to one side.

“Talise… what is she doing?” standing before soldiers, issuing orders had been just slightly more intimidating than now, standing in front of the eagle. Cullen was sure now that the bird of prey was judging him, taking his measure as she watched him through those bright golden eyes.

“Offering you food of course. But… she’s never done that for anyone but me before”, Talise blinked as she looked up towards Cullen, her summer bright gaze wide with shock.

“What do I do?” the former templar did not take his amber gaze from Demon, he had seen the talons she had on her feet, they were several inches long, curved, and almost reminiscent of a dagger Talise carried.

“Take it or not. But this is high praise from her, she doesn’t share.” One small shoulder lifted in a shrug, her smooth skin bared as the shirt slid down again. Over the other shoulder she had flipped a large glove, so long it would fit up to her elbow, heavily padded, and covered in a thick layer of hide.

Cullen moved slowly, his knees aching as he knelt onto the ground in front of the bird. A hot flush rushed to his face, he felt incredibly foolish kneeling on the cold ground, snow still clung to it in places, talking to a bird, “I think I’ll pass this time, thank you though.”

For long moments, Demon studied him, pinning him with a look that seemed to arrow through him, before tilting her head back, and swallowed her offering in one gulp. The eagle regarded Cullen again, staring at him for a long moment, before flicking her head towards Talise, and clicking her beak several times.

“Why do I feel like she is deciding whether she likes me or not?” Slowly he pushed himself back to his feet, curling an arm around Talise and pulling to his side.

“You are.” Talise smiled, burrowing her face in the fur of his surcoat, “As fun as this has been, I promised Maggie I would be there for dinner.”

Cullen sighed, the crisp air outside was far too tempting for him, “There is a meeting scheduled for before dinner. I can’t miss it.”

“Come on then… to work.” Heaving a sigh, Talise turned to walk towards the edge of the clearing, only to stop when Cullen curled his fingers around hers, and pulled her gently back to him.

“We should take advantage of this. No one around, no one asking for something”, A flicker of arousal gleamed in Cullen’s gaze as he slowly drew Talise to him.

“Just a demon bird,” grinning, Talise leaned into Cullen, rising on tiptoe to curl her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding into his tawny hair. For long moments, they stood pressed together in the forest, Talise parted her lips as soon as Cullen pressed his against hers, and only when they were flushed, panting for breath, did Cullen lift his head. Talise looked up at him, her gaze hazy with desire, her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of rose, “I think… we need to get back to Skyhold.”

They rode slowly, talking about Magdalena’s visit, whether she would stay, while Demon circled over them in the sky. When Talise realized the eagle was stalking a raven flying back towards Skyhold, she whistled sharply, and Cullen was amazed when the bird of prey turned, and flew back to them. With a flutter of wings, it landed on Talise’s outstretched, gloved arm, and then hopped onto the pommel of her saddle.

Cullen realized he was seeing more of Talise’s life, she took the eagle with her when she worked, and he was not shocked when he learned Demon hunted ravens. Talise’s seeming supernatural knowledge of events and plans came in large part from the bird, when Demon made a kill, Talise ended up with whatever the raven was carrying. When the assassin had explained it to him, he had fought to hide a smile, the plan was unusual, and a perfect move for Talise. Instead of relying on informants and contacts, who could spill their secrets, she relied on an eagle, who could not talk. The Ghost of Ferelden had survived, and was as good as she was, because she never did the expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at Skyhold was an unusually rambunctious affair, Magdalena attracted more than her fair share of attention, she spoke with nobles and common man alike, Solas and Dorian were drawn into deep conversations with her. Cullen stared openly at Talise, more so than he had in the past, his gaze heated each time it passed over her face. Cassandra and Leliana were fascinated by Talise’s eagle, and they talked about the cantankerous bird through dinner, the Seeker resolving to try and take it dinner later, despite several warnings from Talise.

“Magdalena, I know that look” Valissia leaned over the older seer’s shoulder as she spoke, “What did you do?”

Magdalena had a special bond with Valissia, few mages could talk and communicate openly with spirts, and the redheaded friend of her niece was one of them. She grinned in response to Valissia’s question, “Merely made it so they would talk about what they want more, and what is going on less.”

Valissia heaved a sigh of relief, nodding in agreement with the seer’s words, “You should have come here months ago, it was agony watching them.”

“I think I’ve changed my mind, I think I’ll stay here for a while. Nightreach is doing fine under Patrick, and you girls need me.” Smiling beatifically, Magdalena reached out and patted Valissia’s smooth cheek with a wrinkled hand.

“Now I know you’re up to something.” An auburn brow quirked in suspicion as Valissia looked down at her mentor.

“We shall see, if what I have dreamed comes to pass or not.” Still smiling, Maggie nodded towards Talise and Cullen, as they exchanged heated glances across the wide wooden table.

“So, you’re tipping the scales in your favor?” Valissia followed Magdalena’s gaze, and then looked back down at the Rivaini woman.

“No child. My dreams have revealed what Talise truly wants in her life. I would stop at nothing to ensure her happiness, and yours and Amelia’s as well. I have pushed her towards Cullen, and him towards her.” As she spoke, determination glittered in Magdalena’s gaze, after having lived so long, and traveled so far, there were few lines she would not cross to protect her adopted family.

“I see.”

“I will speak to your Christopher in the morning, to get the better judge of him.”

Valissia’s hot blush contrasted sharply with her hair, and she shook her head no, “No Maggie, that’s not necessary.”

“It is. I want to take his measure, same goes for this Michel. It is one thing to sleep with a man, it is an entirely different thing to give your heart to him. I was not here when Talise fell for Cullen, but you two are not quite where she is.”

“I think she’s been in love with him since they first met.”

“I believe the same daughter of my heart.” Magdalena answered as Valissia slipped away, and the Rivaini watched as she slipped to the

“Dagna”, Cullen’s baritone cut through the crowd, and the alchemist dwarf looked up from where she had been talking with Sera.

“Yes Commander?” The alchemist perked at Cullen’s voice. She had been working on many projects of late, and was always eager to do more.

“I was thinking… it’s high time that hole in my ceiling is patched. How long would it take?” Cullen kept his voice level and neutral, as if he was discussing the weather. When he took the rooms over the portcullis, he had received, and still did, a fair amount of ribbing over the state of the ceiling, with it’s large hole in the tattered ceiling.

Dagna blinked, unable to keep her mouth from falling shut. She had offered repeatedly to help with repairs to Cullen’s quarters, and he had always shut her down, “A few days.”

“And stairs??” Golden, amber eyes swung from Dagna to Talise, tracing over her delicate features as he spoke.

“You want stairs to the upper balcony as well?” Dagna nearly squeaked in excitement. Although it was out of her normal range of work, the idea of getting to work on Cullen’s quarters, was exciting, and she tugged a pencil from her hair, starting to trace out ideas on a nearby napkin.

Sera’s ears perked at Cullen’s conversation, and she aimed an elbow at Varric’s ribs, lifting an eyebrow at Talise when she caught the dwarf’s eye. The assassin, sitting across from Cullen, froze, holding remarkably still as she looked back at Cullen with wide summer bright eyes.

Cullen blinked, tawny lashes obscuring his gaze, before looking at Dagna, who was scribbling all over a linen napkin, “Yes. I know the room isn’t big enough for a full set of stairs, but I do not wish to impose and take another room away from someone. The circle at Kirkwall used small, winding stairs to save space.”

“That would… be perfect Commander. It wouldn’t take us that long at all. I could build a lift as well, for heavier items, it would simple to design.” Dagna ignored the scandalized looks from people around her as she wrote on a napkin, starting to sketch out some ideas.

“I think stairs and a solid ceiling are enough. To start”.

“Tell me… will you miss the view at night Talise?” Varric could not resist ribbing Talise, and he grinned as he questioned the assassin.

“Seeing as how my room is above the garden, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Varric”, even as it felt like her cheeks were going to burst into flames, Talise managed to quip back at her fellow rogue.

The wide neck of the tunic shirt she wore slipped over one shoulder, revealing satiny smooth skin, Cullen lifted his honeyed gaze from the bared skin to the dignitaries, soldiers, scouts, all those who were seated around them. Many eyes were on Talise, and many were openly admiring her, more than one covetous glance was sent back to the Commander as he watched.

Talise seemed oblivious to the glances and whispers, Cole had slipped into the chair next to her, and she was gently whispering to him, talking the other rogue through some sort of problem, Cullen was sure of. He turned his attention back to Dagna, half-listening as the alchemist and several dwarves drew up their plans for his quarters. Already he was dreading the noise and uproar as his rooms were renovated, but he would not invite Talise to stay with him permanently in the half-open room he had now.

Magdalena’s sharp-gaze flitted from Cullen to Talise. They sat across from each other, close enough to share longing gazes, but far enough apart to meet the weird sense of propriety both the Fereldens and Orlesians had. Sighing, she turned her attention to Amelia; the storm mage was sitting next to Michel, the Orlesian knight was whispering something in her ear, sending a blush of the most delicate shade of rose up Amelia’s light golden cheeks. Finally, the seer cast her dark, almost black gaze to the Herald, she studied him far more critically than she had Cullen; the warrior sat at the end of one table, one arm slung over the back of the chair Valissia sat next to, toying with the end of a red tinted curl that had escaped the braid Valissia had worked her hair into.

She regarded the girls, all three orphans, as hers, and a sense of motherly pride rose up in her; Talise was easily one of the best assassins in the world, giving the houses of assassins in Orlais and Antiva pause, Valissia was well-respected as a researcher and spirit mage, she could heal some of the worst wounds, bring back someone from the seeming brink of death, and Amelia, the wild storms the mage summoned rivaled anything Magdalena had seen in many years.

She leaned back in her chair, heaving a sigh, the last decade and then some of her life had been devoted to the women sitting in various spots around the table, she had dedicated her life to seeing to it they were well educated and trained, capable of taking care of themselves. They would not stay in Rivain, and she could not blame them, they had a whole world to explore, but that world was a dangerous place for two apostate mages and an assassin, she had worried every day for them.

“It seems, Magdalena, that your will leave behind no great tome filled with your secrets, but three women who know them”, with a smile, Dorian pushed a small goblet of wine to her.

Magdalena murmured a soft thank you as she picked up the goblet, and sipped at it, leaning back in her chair afterwards, “It would seem so. I had no idea what to do, after the Battle of Denerim, with three young girls, all orphaned. My nephew could not take care of them, they could not stand to be separated.”

“I cannot imagine what it must have been like for them.” Dorian cast a sympathetic look towards Talise, having seen her, pale-faced and nearly catatonic, the first night she had been in Skyhold.

“Awful. They lost their father’s the year before, Valissia’s mother had died in childbirth, and Amelia and Talise’s mother were lost during the fighting in Denerim.” The seer sighed at the memory, her dark gaze flicking over the three women.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your sister.” Dorian pressed a tanned hand, topped with perfectly manicured nails, over one of Magdalena’s in sympathy.

“Thank you, Dorian.” Magdalena smiled at Dorian over the top of her goblet.

“Can I ask you what being a mage is like in Rivain?”

“Vastly different than it is here. And I’m sure far different than what it is like in Tevinter. Tomorrow, I’ll meet you for tea and we will talk.”

Cullen stood then, pushing his chair back slowly. One large, gloved hand rose to rub at the back of his neck, as conversations around him died down slowly. Before, he had bid his farewells at dinner, and left alone, Talise had followed a few moments later. Now however, he stood, his honeyed gaze meeting Talise’s sky-touched eyes as she looked at him across the table, candlelight dancing across her delicate features. One shoulder was still bared by the careless tunic she wore, and as she looked up at him, Valissia leaned over to her, tugging the wide neck of her shirt back up in place.

“Are you leaving us Commander?” Cassandra broke the quiet with a smirk on her face as she looked up and across the table at Cullen.

“Yes. I was… thinking… the gardens are especially peaceful this time of night. I thought I might take a walk around them.” A flush darkened the commanders face as he nodded, unable to meet Cassandra’s sharp gaze.

Dorian and Iron Bull shared a meaningful glance, while Varric and Sera smirked at each other. Even Vivienne had stopped talking, her gaze bouncing between Cullen and Talise. The air in the hall grew heavy with anticipation, Amelia found herself crossing her fingers for luck.

The only seeming calm, disinterested face in the crowd was Magdalena. Talise’s last remaining family member watched the interplay between Cullen and Talise with a suspiciously placid look on her face, sipping at the wine Dorian had given her.

His flush deepened as the hall grew quiet, and Cullen knew everyone was watching him. For a moment he did not speak, but looked pleadingly at Talise, as if willing her to ask before him. The assassin stayed where she was, watching him through her bright gaze. Finally, he spoke, stumbling over her words in his embarrassment, “I was wondering… Talise… would you… I mean, if you’re finished, would you like to accompany me?”

“Absolutely. I would love to.” Talise answered him before he was done speaking, sliding from her chair with her easy, fluid grace. In the long moment before Cullen asked her, she had nearly asked him to walk with her, unable to bear the tension as it spun out in the candlelit room.

All the chatter at the nearby tables died down, quiet murmurs passing amongst the people all gathered for dinner. Josephine looked up from the closest table, seated in between the Ferelden and Orlesian ambassadors, her dark eyes wide with shock for a moment, but she grinned before she could stop herself. Blackwall sat as close to the Antivan ambassador as he could, next to the Ferelden ambassador, and he could not fight off a smile, watching the commander bumble his way through a suddenly very public courtship.

Cullen and Talise met in the middle of the hallway, and she took his offered arm, turning to look at Magdalena. There was a flash of shyness there, but a mix of mischief, and triumph. The seer met Talise’s grin with her own, and winked at her. A rush of whispers followed the commander and the assassin out of the great hall, the companions and Herald all grinning at each other, Leliana and Josephine sharing smiles, and Magdalena sat in her chair, wearing a look of placid contentment.

“Magdalena, you must a champion of the game.” Vivienne tipped her goblet of wine in the seer’s direction, a smile on her face.

For a moment, Magdalena considered the First Enchanter, her dark gaze missing nothing, before she set her goblet down gently, “Alas Vivienne, I am not. I am, however, determined to see my niece happy.”

“Is that not the same thing?” The First Enchanter asked in return.

“Perhaps so. There is nothing I would not do to see her, and Valissia and Amelia, safe and happy”, the Rivaini took a moment to pin both Michel and Christopher with a look, before her gaze returned to Vivienne.

“So, you’ll be staying with us then?” Christopher spoke then, looking over at Magdalena, a dark brow arched over his deep green eyes.

“If you have need of me, then yes. I understand that a Rivaini seer may make some uncomfortable. I can easily stay at Nightreach, if need be.” A wrinkled hand lifted to the templars that sat in the hallway, clustered together. Few of them mixed with the mages, and since Magdalena’s arrival this morning they had given her a wide berth.

“Any mage makes the templars uncomfortable. It’s taken some time, but I believe we have a good relationship built amongst everyone now.” Christopher leaned back in his chair, relaxing comfortably, one powerful arm pulled tight around Valissia. The Herald had made his interested in the spirit healer plain from the beginning, and their relationship did not merit as much gossip now; the room was buzzing with speculation over Cullen and Talise. Already the Orlesians were speaking of a grand ball after a marriage, and the Fereldens whispered of yet another common born being introduced to the nobility, this time through marriage.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, this is all NSFW. 
> 
> And this chapter... this is all for Hubs. Thank you for the ahem... frequent inspiration, when writer's block strikes. *blush* And for making gorgeous babies with me. 
> 
> If you haven't listened to it yet, I highly recommend listening to Aspirin, by Phoebe Ryan. It is a gorgeous, explicit song. And it was the inspiration for this scene.

Talise twirled a moon flower in her fingers, the milky white petals spinning as she walked. Cullen paused a few steps behind her, tugging his gloves off. He watched her walk, she had picked a wandering path through the small garden, her hips gently swaying, the movement enough to draw his attention. The thick plait of her braid, her chocolate dark tresses twisted on themselves, was a tempting target, he wanted to undo it, as much as he wanted to hold it in his hand, to use it to tug her head back until the line of her throat was bared to him.

The soft skin of her shoulder called to him as she looked over at him, the smooth curve of her skin just a few shades darker than the flower he had picked for her. It was his shirt, he realized, that’s why the neckline had continued to fall over her shoulder during the day, in her haste to get to her aunt she had pulled on one of his discarded shirts, and never taken it off. A predatory smirk curved his lips and he finally walked towards him, the calloused tips of his fingers trailing over her bared shoulder.

“You’re wearing my shirt.” From behind Talise, Cullen leaned down to whisper the words into her small, curved ear. One hand ghosted over her arm, almost brushing against her linen clad arm, feeling the warmth of her smooth skin through his shirt.

“You left it on the bed.” Her small chin lifted as she turned her head to grin impishly up at Cullen, her summer bright gaze sparkling with a mix of mischief and desire. As she spoke she moved away from him, walking soundlessly towards the gazebo on the far side of the garden.

“If I leave it out, you get to steal it?” A tawny brow lifted as she slipped away from him, smirking as she grinned up at him, watching her with a predatory look as he followed her to the gazebo

“That seems fair to me.” As if she had no care in the world, as if her skin was not prickling with awareness, her heartbeat was not racing, she leaned against one column of the gazebo, keeping her back to Cullen as she twirled the creamy white moonflower between slim fingers.

“Thief.” She made it to easy to lose himself, to forget his responsibilities and cares. Standing in the moonlight garden, he was simply a man, pursuing the object of his desires. While Talise had taken a circuitous route, he stalked after her, and now he stepped up behind her once more, reaching out to run the backs of his fingers over the smooth curve of her shoulder.

“Templar.” A shiver betrayed her, her skin pimpling in a rush of a goosebumps, even as she smirked into the darkness, well aware of the game they were playing.

“Assassin.” Cullen smiled into the top of her dark head, feeling the silky strands catch on his stubble.

“Lover.” She murmured the words, turning her head to brush her lips, just the barest of hint of a kiss, against his jaw, smirking when she heard a swift inhalation, and his fingers tightened over her arm for a moment.

“Good. Girl.” He watched her body as he whispered the words into her shoulder, smirking as shivers broke out across her skin, “ _My good girl_.”

Cullen never used the words unless they were with each other, and now her body betrayed her when he spoke them into her ear, whispering them to her as his lips brushed against her bare shoulder. It was almost a chaste kiss, almost innocent, were it not for the gleam of arousal in Cullen’s honeyed gaze, the way Talise leaned back into him, and the way his hand slid to her stomach, riding low over the taut muscles, pulling her back to him. The propriety spread of his fingers, almost brushing the laces of her leggings, turned the kiss he brushed against her shoulder into something far more carnal.

“Cullen…” One slim fingers slid to behind her to grip his thigh, her fingers digging into the leather breeches he wore.

“We should… go to my room.” He pressed another kiss to her bared shoulder, this time his teeth nipped at her smooth skin, earning him a sharp gasp from Talise.

“Mine’s closer.” A shaking hand lifted to the rooms across the garden from where they stood.

He shook his head no at her words, running calloused fingers down her arm gently, tracing over the silvery scar on her arm, “And at least Amelia will need it. You’ve got clean clothes in my room, right?”

“Y..yes.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, and she dug her teeth into the tender curve of her lower lip in an effort to hide the effect he was having on her.

“Then we’re going there.”

It took them ages to make it to Cullen’s quarters, he deliberately took the long way, crossing the courtyard past the blacksmiths, where he backed Talise into a shadowy corner, captured her lips in his and devoured her mouth. Nearly half a candle had burned before he let her go, her lips swollen, and her cerulean gaze cloudy with desire. In one tower he pinned her to the stone wall, her legs curling eagerly around his waist, and they kissed for several more minutes, her fingers tangled in his hair while his hands held her hips. She squirmed and writhed against him, feeling his length strain against his breeches, uncaring of the bite of his breastplate into her stomach.

At what had become their spot on the ramparts, where they snuck to steal kisses or simply be with each other, he stopped once more, lifted her onto the edge of the stone merlon, and slid between her thighs, which parted easily for him. Half-hidden by the moonless night, he rocked his hips against hers, while she gasped into his mouth, mewling for more.

Once inside his quarters, he prowled around his office, locked each door, and stood at the last one he locked, tugging his fur trimmed surcoat off, tossing it and his gloves onto his desk. Talise watched him through bright eyes, one hip leaning against the side of his desk, her fingers tracing mindless patterns on the polished wood.

“Go upstairs.”

“Are you coming with me?”

“Of course. Go upstairs sweetheart.” He growled the words in her ear, his hands wrapping around the end of her braid, and tugging the ribbon that held it free, the black silk sliding from her tresses. As he watched her saunter to the ladder, hips swaying, he twined the ribbon between his calloused fingers, letting it drop on his desk, before following her up to the balcony.

As soon as his booted feet cleared the balcony, Talise was on him. Her talented fingers popped open the clasps on his armor with an ease that belied how often she had done it. Somehow, she had maneuvered him to stand next to his armor stand, and she placed each piece on the wooden stand carefully. The buttons on his quilted gambeson came next, when it hung open, Cullen moved, snapped out of the sensual reverie Talise had spun around him.

His arms wrapped around her, and he walked her backwards, until her legs bumped against the bed, and she sat down. Standing over her, he tugged off his gambeson, before his hands slid into her hair, and with a delicate touch, he unraveled her braid. When her hair slid over her shoulders, wavy from being pulled up, the dark strands gleaming with a faint touch of gold in the candlelight, he leaned down, until he could press a kiss to her forehead, “Would you indulge me?”

“Seeing as how indulging you always means good things for me, of course.” She nodded, masses of dark hair sliding down her shoulders and over her back in a spill of wavy chocolate strands.

Turning from her, he rummaged through one of the giant chests in his room. Talise watched him, tilting her head to one side, rising from the bed in an effort to see what Cullen was searching for.  The creak of the bed gave her away, and without looking up from his task, Cullen shook his head no, “Stay there.”

“My curiosity is killing me.” A pout curved her full pink lips, a tempting sight for the former templar, but she sat down, her sky touched gaze sparkling with curiosity.

“I know. The and that is part of it.” He turned to her, his hand clenched around a mass of midnight blue silk. As Talise sat back on the bed, an eyebrow raised, he walked back to her, leaning forward and letting the edge of the silk trail over her bare shoulder, “You need a watchword.”

Talise sucked in a breath when he spoke, her eyes round and wide as she gazed up at him, “A watchword?”

“In case you need me to stop.” He nodded, watching her reaction carefully. Despite his outward calm, his gentle yet domineering demeanor, was unsure of her reaction. Truthfully, he was unsure of his reaction, he had been curious, having listened to the bawdy talk of templars and soldiers, of the men he knew, for years; but that curiosity was mixed with the painful reminder of his own past.

“You’ve been talking to Iron Bull”, Talise grinned up at him, her slim fingers flipping the end of one midnight blue tie between her fingers.

As soon as that impish grin curled her lips, Cullen relaxed, letting go of a breath he had not realized he was holding. His own lips curved in a grin, pulling the tempting line of his scar up as he did so, “I may have picked up a thing or two from him. But this is something I’ve been wanting to try.”

“You have a thing for tying up women?”, she arched an eyebrow up at him, mischief and humor in her gaze while she continued to flip the end of the tie between her fingers back and forth.

“No. Just you.” The muscles in his arms bunched as he moved to lean down until he could press a gentle kiss to her mouth, “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Miel”, the word came tumbling out of her mouth as he kissed her, a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine.

“That’s Rivaini, isn’t it?” Cullen’s lips took a meandering path down her cheek, his teeth nipping at the curve of her jaw.

“It means honey,” Her teeth sunk into her lip as she spoke, a blush heating her cheeks as she looked up at him. It took several moments for her to finish her thought, and her fingers stopped their flippant play with the tie as she spoke, “Reminds me of your eyes”.

A slight flush colored his cheeks as he continued to press gentle kisses over her face, in sharp contrast to the silken ties he held in his wrist. Talise reached for the end of one, an eyebrow raising as she realized these were not simply lengths of silk. Each one was hemmed, the ends delicately sewn shut, and she was sure she felt something padded in the middle of one it, as one slid from his grasp into hers.

“I…. may have had them made.” He grinned at her, the scar that ran to his lips lifting.

“You’ve been planning this?” The impish grin returned as she looked up at him, realizing that these were something Cullen had made, that he had been planning these, “Didn’t I tell you once that this was my favorite color?”

“Well… yes.” It was his turn to blush now, his cheeks warming at her question, “And yes, you did.”

She grinned up at him, curling the padded portion of the tie around her slim wrist. Against the rich, dark blue, her pale skin stood out, and her eyes seemed bluer somehow, as she looked at him, “Like this?”

“Minx”, he cursed slightly, watching her wind the tie around her wrist, his eyes darkening in arousal. He was aware suddenly, that his heart was pounding, hammering in his chest as he looked at her.

“Wait… I should be naked first”, she unwound the tie from her wrist, letting it drop to the bed. She kicked her boots off, stood on her knees and tugged on the laces of her pants, taking the time to loosen them before she tugged her leather leggings off, taking with her the tiny triangle of silk that hid her folds from him. With a smirk, she crawled onto the bed, turning her back on Cullen, and pulled his shirt off, letting it drop onto a heap on the foot of the bed.

The entire length of her naked back was presented to him, along with the taut curves of her ass, and she reached for the lengths of midnight blue silk one more, letting it trail over the rumpled sheets and blankets as she smiled at him, a gleam of challenge in her sky-touched eyes. She was testing him, pushing at his control, and he knew it, even as a bolt of arousal coursed through him, one calloused hand reached out, and trailed down her back, running over smooth, pale skin as he spoke, his voice deepening with his desire, “The nickname Ghost is very apt. You’re as pale as one.”

“I got it in Rivain.” She shivered, her eyes closing at the touch of his calloused fingers, tilting her head to one side as his fingers ran back up over her shoulder, revealing the creamy curve of her throat.

“I can imagine you stood out there”, Cullen murmured the response, leaning away from the bed long enough to tug off the last of his clothes. As his gaze turned back to Talise, who had turned on the bed just enough to watch him, he faltered. For a moment, the memories, the pain, rushed at him, and he lost the masculine confidence he had oozed earlier.

“Cullen?” As if sensing his sudden unease, she looked over her shoulder, brows furrowing as she watched him change from confident, to suddenly unsure. Realization dawned on her, and she waited, poised on his bed, uncaring of her nudity, or anything else, waiting for him to tell her what he was struggling with, even as she knew the truth of it.

For long moments he said nothing, but merely stared at Talise. She was studying him, watching him with a gentle gaze, and that look, one of acceptance, gave him the strength to speak once more, “I know… what it’s like to be bound against your will.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Talise moved, sliding from the bed, and reaching for him, curling her arms around his neck, “Oh Cullen. Listen to me, if you want this, we can try it. Because I want to try. But it wouldn’t be against my will.”

“I…” Powerful arms wrapped around her automatically, holding her to him as she spoke, and Cullen buried his chiseled face into the curve of her neck, shuddering as her warmth pressed against him.

“Cullen, listen to me. I’m already bound to you. You just can’t see it.” She had to stand on tiptoe, the muscles in her legs stretching as she did so, to press a kiss to his jaw, and then the scar that ran to his lips, “But if you don’t want to, then we won’t.”

“You trust me?” Chills ran down his arms as her lips pressed against his scar, his arms shaking slightly as he held onto Talise’s slim frame.

“With my life.” The words were pressed into his stubbled cheek as Talise spoke, brushing her soft, full lips against his skin gently.

A shiver wracked his form, and his arms slid around her waist, “I….”

“Sit down Cullen”, she stepped away from him, and watched him through bright eyes. Knowing his fascination with her hair, her hands rose to the dark tresses, lifting the heavy mass in her hands, and tousling the strands, letting them flow down her back and over her shoulders in a gleaming river.

Even as he sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers were reaching for the ends of her hair, only for the silken strands to slide out of his reach, as Talise moved between his knees, and then slid down to hers. Slowly, she held her hands up, wrists pressed together, in a carnal offering, “Only if you want to. Only for you.”

Calloused hands shook as he reached for one of the silken ties, wrapping it gently, but thoroughly around her wrists, tying it with a knot he could pull free in one tug if needed. His fingers slid between the silk and her skin, pulling it, making sure she would not chafe, even as his fingers trembled. Suddenly he was aware that he was hard, throbbing with want and need as she sat before him.

One hand held Talise’s bound ones, and she looked up at him with acceptance, and love, as she sat, waiting for him. His free hand slid back into her hair, running through her strands gently, coasting over her high cheekbones, before he took her in, she was kneeling on the floor, atop his leather breeches, her high breasts mostly hidden behind a curtain of deep, chocolate dark hair, her bound wrists held by his hand, which dwarfed both of hers.

“Maker… I love you.” Cullen was struck then, by a bolt of arousal, and by a current of emotion. Talise was giving him a chance to explore, a chance to heal his own wounds, she was doing something for him she would not do for any other man. No man would ever have her like this, he was seeing a side of her she gave only to him, and she was doing it willingly.

“Love you too.” Her eyes traced of his features, the planes of his face, the scar that cut down to his lip, the stubble covering his cheeks, and she leaned up to brush a kiss against his cheeks.

Cullen responded, tugging her by her bound wrists to him, his free hand sliding down her back to cup the curves of her ass in his hand, holding her to him as her lips parted. He held her there for long moments, tongue twisting around hers, rubbing in an insistent rhythm, until they were both gasping for breath. When he leaned back, Talise squirmed, sliding from his grasp, and sunk back to her knees, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses over his chest, and down his stomach. Just below his navel, she raked her teeth across his skin, sucking on the mark she left behind, before glancing up at him through her sooty lashes.

“Can I use my hands?... Or just my mouth?” A very wicked grin lifted the lips of her mouth as she looked up at him, her tongue tracing a path downwards past his navel.

“Maker... Talise… what are you doing?” Cullen gasped, his arms shaking as he held himself up off the bed, amber eyes darkening with arousal as her lips and that talented tongue slid further down.

“Pleasing you.” She slid further down, feeling his hips jerk as her chin slid over the head of his swollen cock. A gasp from Cullen, and her tongue slid down his length in tiny, barely-there flicks, her lips pressing kisses into his length, “Does this not please you?”

“You have no idea how much it does please me…” He ground the words out, falling back to the bed onto one elbow, pleasure rending him incapable of sitting up. One muscular arm lifted to press against his eyes, his free hand dug into the sheets, gripping a handful tightly, the image of Talise, sitting on her knees, hands bound in that deep blue silk, full pouty lips almost closed around the head of his length too much for him to bear, “Maker… please…”

“I live to serve”, she whispered the words, her lips closing around him, cheeks hollowed as she sucked on his length. Each time she lifted her head she drew the flat of her tongue against his length, curled it around the head, flicked it against the sensitive underside in a pattern he couldn’t make out, but it made his hips lift from the bed to press harder into her mouth.

Cullen lost all sense of time as Talise sat between his legs, occasionally lifting her head to nip at the inside of his thighs, leaving stinging marks on his skin, or to lick and trail her lips up and down his length, before returning to sucking on his length, her mouth sliding up and down his length in gentle movements. When she returned to flicking her tongue in against that most sensitive spot on his cock, he groaned, lifting his head to watch her; his warm honeyed gaze was met by her bright one, a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she parted her lips, letting him watch her trail her tongue over his length.

“What… what are you doing?” One hand slid over her dark, satiny tresses, his fingers shaking as she continued her pleasurable work. He was long past the ability to hold himself up, and he reached with his other hand towards the head of the bed, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it behind his head.

“Writing…” she leaned forward, tracing her tongue over his length once more, “My name…”

“With your tongue… Fuck…” He finished for her, his hips jerking up off the bed as she repeated her actions, a groan torn from his throat, his hands fisting in the bed.

“MmmHmmm...” she murmured her answer, tongue curling around his swollen tip. Her perspective gaze, trained to watch a target, focused on Cullen, and she watched the way his hands flexed on the bed, his hips jerked from the bed, the muscles in his thighs flexing.

His lashes obscured his gaze as his eyes fell closed, only to jerk open when she sunk her teeth into his thigh, harder this time, leaving a perfect impression of her teeth in his skin. The pain quickly faded into a pleasurable burn, and he gritted his teeth when she smirked up at him, one of his hands leaving the bed to curl into her hair, “Minx…”

“Just marking my territory.” With a wide smirk on her face, her mouth moved back to his length, sucking him into her mouth in one smooth move, until she could not breath for a moment, and she swallowed, her throat closing around his length.

Cullen realized with a jolt that although she was on her knees before him, hands bound, they were sharing control. She had submitted to him, but there was power in that, he was the one gasping and squirming on the bed. The hand that held her hair tightened, and he groaned helplessly, his hips lifting from the bed to meet her lips. Talise murmured in approval, and she sucked on his length harder, no longer toying with him, dragging the flat of her tongue over him in the way she had learned he liked best, and was rewarded with a harsh curse, his hand jerking almost painfully in his hair.

“Talise… you have to stop…” He gasped out the words, hips lifting from the bed even as he struggled to speak.

“Stop asking… take what you need.” She murmured the words to him, pressing a wet kiss to the head of his cock, her tongue flicking down over that sensitive spot once more.

“Maker Talise….” Cullen ground the words out, as she sucked on him again, and then speech was beyond him. He moaned, his hips lifting from the bed to meet her mouth. The hand not holding her hair twitched at his side, gripping the sheets restlessly, digging into the bedding as pleasure raced down his spine. When she sucked hard on him, her bound hands wrapped around the base of his length, sliding up to meet her pouty lips, he felt the ends of the silken tie trail over his skin, and he groaned.

Her name was a prayer, a curse, a plea, her mouth was too much, not enough, and then he was shouting, roaring into the night as Talise pushed him over the edge with the flick of her tongue. His vision went dark around the edges, his hips lifted from the bed, each movement sending more of his seed into her willing mouth, his entire body jerked as she swallowed, and then continued to suck on him. When he dropped back to the bed, his chest heaving, Talise let him slip from her mouth, her tongue trailing over his twitching length with a gentle lapping motion. He groaned, his hand falling from her hair to land limply on the bed.

“Did that please you?” she smiled up at him, pressing one last gentle kiss to the head of his cock, sitting back on her heels as she did so.

“Maker yes…” his hands shook as he reached for hers, her bound wrists propped on his thigh, and he curled his hand around hers, pulling her up to the mattress, until she could curl up against him. For a moment they rested there, Cullen’s heart racing beneath Talise’s smooth cheek, his hand trailing down her back in mindless circles, “Everything you did pleases me. But that… was… I saw the inside of the Black City.”

His gaze dropped down to his stomach, where her wrists, still bound, rested, and one finger reached to trace over the silken tie. Gently he slid her from his side, and stood up, leaning to grab a bottle of wine from the table nearest his bed. Earlier this evening he had thought to bring it up here, and now he was grateful for it as he poured some into a goblet, and held it out to her lips, instead of handing it to her. Blinking in surprise, she sipped from the goblet as he held it, before pushing it away with her finger tips, and she watched as he drained it in one gulp.

Turning back to Talise, Cullen moved back onto the bed, sliding her further up the bed, until she was stretched across it, her small toes digging into the sheets. One hand reached for a spare tie, and he looped it around the headboard, tying one end loosely around the silken tie binding Talise’s wrists. As he ran his fingers underneath the tie on her wrists, tugging on it to make sure it was loose enough to keep from hurting her, his gaze swept over her naked form, stretching out on the bed, “Remember your watchword?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Miel.”

“That’s my good girl”, he murmured the words hotly in her ear, his teeth nipping at the tender skin behind it. Mirroring her actions from earlier, he kissed his way down her chest, stopping at her high breasts, the cool breeze that filtered in to his room had her pale pink nipples drawn tight, and she squirmed as he ran his tongue over each one. His hands cupped the lush curves in his hands, plumping them up higher for his mouth, and he sucked and licked his way over her skin, his stubble leaving marks on the tender skin.

More of the candles had burned down before he lifted his head from her breasts, which were pink and swollen from his attentions. Talise was squirming on the bed, pressing her thighs together on the bed in a futile attempt to assuage the slick want that had grown with every pass of his tongue over her high breasts. Cullen smiled down at her, brushing strands of hair away from her sweaty, flushed face.

Calloused fingers slid down her side and up the inside of her thigh, slipping over the porcelain smooth skin, running up and down in a gentle, teasing pattern, his calloused fingers running up almost to the slick folds between her thighs, before sliding back down. When he felt the moisture slicking over even the tops of her thighs, he groaned, arousal flicking back to life in his golden gaze, “Oh sweetheart… you’re already so wet.”

Tied as she was to the bed, her arms stretched above her head, she could do little more than part her thighs, a whine in the back of her throat. She panted as she looked up at him, her fingers curling into her palms to keep from pulling at the silken ties that held her to bed.

“I know what you’re expecting, that I’ll tease you.” He growled in her ear, leaning down to nip and suck on the tender skin of her throat.

“No… please… no.”

“You’re right. I’m not going to tease you.” He grinned, the bed creaking softly as he moved, sliding between her thighs. He had not tied her legs, and now she suddenly knew why, with her legs free, he could drape her slender thighs over his shoulder. His stubble rubbed around the skin of her calf as he kissed her leg, going down to the arch of her foot, smirking when she jerked her foot away from him, his fingers tightening around her calf. His lips coasted back up her leg, he reached for her other leg, spreading it open, as he draped the thigh he was holding back onto his shoulder.

“What are you going to do?” She trembled as he spread her thighs, a blush darkening her cheeks, and then sliding down her slender throat. Even while she blushed she was spreading her legs further open for Cullen, offering herself up to him on a whimper.

“Give you what you want… over and over and over. Until you can’t take the pleasure.” The smile on his face was predatory as he drew one broad, calloused fingers over her slick folds, rubbing gently against the swollen bundle of nerves that caught his attention.

Talise hissed in a breath, gasping for air as her hips jerked. A blush colored her cheeks, the tips of her ears, and started to slide down her neck, her wrists jerked on the silken ties, her fingers gripping the dangling ends of midnight blue in a desperate bid to hold onto something. His breath ghosted over her as he touched her, rubbing against her swollen clit, dipping inside of her folds, and then slipping back out once more. The gentle teasing rhythm had her hovering on the edge before she could even breathe properly, she arched from the bed as her climax overtook her, her breathless whimper growing into a near scream as he slid one finger, then another into her. She pulsed around his fingers, her body shaking as her hips rocked to meet his fingers.

With a moan she fell back to the bed, blinking hazy eyes down at him, where he was propped up on one arm, her leg still hanging over his shoulder. His fingers had stilled, but he kept them inside of her, watching her face as she came back to awareness with a sigh. When the haze of pleasure cleared from her sky-touched eyes, he moved then, gently pressing his fingers up, searching for that spot within her.

Talise did not close her eyes so much as they rolled back in her head, and could not help the whimper that fell from her lips, a softly-whispered curse in Rivaini, his name. When the tips of his fingers rubbed over that tender spot, her legs jerked out of reflex, her arms pulled hard on the ties, and she squealed, her toes curling against Cullen’s back. He smiled up at her, a lazy, predatory grin as he continued to press against her, his fingers sliding back and forth as they stroked in and out. She lost the ability to speak, her lips opening and closing as she gasped, her hips squirming on the bed, it was too much, she was too tender and swollen after her climax, but Cullen was relentless, continuing to rub against her as his fingers slid in and out of her body.

“Love… I don’t speak Rivaini…” he smirked up at her, his hips pressing tightly against the bed, seeking any relief as his length suddenly swelled, throbbing with his heartbeat. A soft hiss left him as he slid against the smooth sheets, his fingers sliding into her harder than before.

“Don’t… don’t… don’t…” she was torn between begging him to stop, and begging him not to stop as he continued to torment her. Her legs shifted restlessly, her smooth skin sliding over his shoulder as she squirmed, one moment she lifted up to him, and the next her hips jerked away.

“Don’t?” His fingers gentled, sliding in and out of her, pressing against that swollen spot within her still, but slower, as she squirmed, his arousal-darkened gaze watching her face intently.

As soon as his fingers slowed down, she moaned, her arms pulling hard on the ties, not caring of the red stripes that decorated her wrists. Her hips lifted to his fingers willingly now, her legs spreading further open for him. Cullen responded as Talise curved up from the bed again, her back arching, and his fingers pressed insistently, but painfully gentle, into her slick folds. Overly sensitive, her body already tuned to his touch, Talise shuddered, pushed gently towards another climax. It washed over her in waves, and she pulsed around his fingers, slickness dripping off his fingers as he continued to slide them in her.

Even as she shuddered from her orgasm, he ducked his head, running the flat of his tongue over her swollen clit, sucking on it briefly. Talise screamed, her hips pushing towards her mouth, greedy for the feeling again, and Cullen was all too eager to give it to her. Remembering what she had done earlier, the tip of his tongue flicked over her sensitive flesh in repetitive motions, while Talise quivered beneath him.

She had just enough time to suck in a breath, before his tongue flicked out that pattern again, and Talise knew what he was doing, pressing his name into her willing folds as she laid tied to the bed. When he dragged the flat of his tongue over her again, parting her folds and then sliding over the swollen bud of nerves once more, Talise shrieked, her body pulsing as once more she climaxed. This time her arousal leaked onto the sheets, slicked the tops of her thighs, as she bowed from the bed, the muscles in her arms aching as she pulled on the ties.

The bed creaked, the wood protesting as Talise pulled on the ties, lithe muscles taut, without lifting his head from between her thighs Cullen reached a powerful arm up, sliding over her body, and pulled on the slipknot, tugging it free. His hand curled around the ties, holding her arms in place as he continued to lick her, feeling her folds pulse against his lips and tongue.

Miel. The word was on the tip of her tongue, her overstimulated flesh pulsing with each brush of his tongue against her. It felt too good to stop, but too much to continue at the same time, and she stayed where she was, sweaty and arching from the bed, her leg tightening against the shoulder. When he finally lifted her head she whimpered, suddenly aware that tears had gathered in her eyes.

Crystalline tears slid down her cheeks, and Cullen moved then, tugging her to him, gathering her trembling form in his arms, kissing her tears away as she shivered. Even as she struggled to breathe, gasping against the scar on his shoulder, her legs wrapped around his waist, and she rubbed shamelessly against him, hearing him growl in her ear.

“Talise… stop..” Despite his concern, he could not help but respond, rocking against her slick folds, feeling them part in wet welcome around his cock.

“No… don’t want to…” She moaned the words out, lifting her still bound hands until she could fold her arms around his neck. Silken ties trailed over his skin as she moved, and he shuddered, burying his face in her dark hair, now damp with sweat and tangled from her tossing and turning upon his bed.

 Trembling hands cupped her smooth cheeks, holding her still as he looked down at her. The tears were gone from her eyes, and she looked up at him with arousal dark eyes, the black of her pupils nearly overtaking the cerulean of her gaze. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, bruised from her own teeth, and she pressed them against his, sliding her fingers into his hair, “Please Cullen… please… I need you.”

Heat flared over his skin, and he moved, pressing his length into her, groaning in relief as her folds parted for him once more, and he slid into her. She was swollen from his attention, puffy with arousal, and she pulsed around him as he moved, Cullen cursed out loud then, his hands tightening into the sheets around her head as he started to move. Talise whimpered, feeling the familiar stretch, even as wet as she was, it skated the edge of pain, until she relaxed, and he was buried within her.

Talise whined each time he slid from her, her legs tightening around his hips in a reflexive response to try and keep him buried within her, but each time he slid forward, he pulled away slower, until she was quivering in his arms. One muscled arm slid underneath her arched back, pulling her closer to him, the other braced himself above her, and he continued his slow torment of her body. When she started to shake, quivering against the bed, he smiled at her, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead, the movement at odds with the carnal way he was taking her.

“Please Cullen… please please…” She was trembling on the edge once more, heat flicking through her body each time he moved.

“Stop asking Talise… take what you need my good girl.” He whispered the words she had told him in her ear, teeth sinking into the tender lobe as he spoke, biting gently. Cullen knew what she was trembling for, what she was begging for, and his hips snapped against hers harder, the swollen head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside of her with each stroke.

Talise hovered on the edge still, her body tightening around his with each thrust, her fingers tightening in Cullen’s golden curls, until finally, with one well-timed thrust, she came. Her back bowed, pushing her breasts against the muscles of his chest, her legs tightened around his waist, and she pulsed around him, squeezing around his cock tightly in rhythmic waves. It was too much, and Cullen buried himself in her, his hips pushing to try and get closer to her, deeper into her. As she squeezed around him, he let out a shout, his vision growing white, then dark as his climax over took him. Buried within her, his seed flooded her in spurts, his hips jerking with the force of his orgasm, toes curling into the sheets.

They rocked together, her hips meeting the gentle thrusts of his hips, as they panted, the pleasure slowly receding. His lips met hers, and he kissed her languidly, rubbing his hips against her lazily, finally easing from her body. One large hand slid down her body, cupping her slick mound in his hand, squeezing gently, pressing against her folds, as he leaned up, using his free hand to tug the ties that still bound her wrists free. The silken ties dropped to the bed in a wrinkled heap as he pressed his hand against her, a primal urge to keep his seed within her overtaking him.

Gently he moved, sliding his hand from her slick folds, gripping one slim thigh in his hand, he pushed her legs together. The cloud of arousal and masculine dominance had not yet left him, and he pushed her thighs tight together, murmuring in her ear as he did, “Don’t waste any of it.”

Talise blinked hazy eyes up at him, and she whined as he pressed his hand against her, the tips of his fingers slipping past her dripping folds, and pressing just barely into her, before his calloused hands pushed her thighs together, “Cullen… “

“I know love…” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips once more, his hand coasting over her breasts, rubbing gently against her swollen, pink nipples. With a groan he stretched out atop the sheets, pulling her frame against his, burying his stubble-covered face in her dark hair and breathing the scent of her in.

For a few moments every care he had, the weight of responsibility, of leadership, it all left him, while he focused on drawing patterns against the milky skin of her back. Reality intruded as he heard the guards changing rotations, boots echoing across the top of the stone ramparts, with a heavy sigh, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I have no idea if we will win this war Talise.”

Her answer was resolute, and determination shining in her sky touched gaze as she lay on his bed, her skin still pink and flushed, “I do. We are going to win this war. When this is all over, and we have peace again…”

He cupped her small chin in his calloused palm, searching her eyes with his own. She was certain, so sure of herself, and he suddenly found himself believing again, “When this is over, things will change between us.”

“How?” a dark brow lifted in question as she looked up at him, her chin cradled in his large palm. In the last of the flickering candlelight, the candles now mostly puddles of wax, her eyes looked more luminous than usual, meeting his amber gaze.

Cullen could not keep the sigh from escaping him, as he looked into her shining eyes. Gently his thumb traced over her cheek, calloused from swordplay it rubbed against the smooth curve of her cheekbone as he spoke, “I won’t want to be parted from you.”

“You’ll have me. I told you I’ll follow you anywhere Cullen.”

“And Nightreach?”

“Is home to more than just me. We can visit. We can live there, we can explore the world.”

“I had thought to start a home of sorts. A place where templars could safely come off lyrium, a place where those who are lost to it can pass their final days.” He whispered the words, as the candles started to wink out, slowly darkening his room.

For a long moment Talise said nothing, studying him in the dying candlelight, her teeth sinking into her lip as she gathered her courage. It took effort to keep her voice neutral, to keep her words even, “You know… there is a spot tucked away from the keep, it needs work, a new roof, but it could be a good place to start.”

His head lifted from the pillow to look down at her, golden eyes wide as he moved, “Talise, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I’m doing it because I want to.”

“Balancing the scales again.”

She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his hand, “You don’t have to… but it will be there if you want to.”

“When this is over I will have to go home. Mia will kill me if I don’t”, he chuckled at the thought, his sister’s last letter had practically demanded he come home.

“I want to take you to Rivain, there is a spot where the desert meets the ocean that is truly magical. The rains come once a year, and it grows lush and green.” Talise smiled at the idea, her eyes turning soft and dreamy at the mention of Rivain, revealing the depth of emotion for the place she considered her second home.

They whispered to each other, making plans, dreams for a future threatened by an unimaginable evil. Locked in his room, wrapped around each other, Talise believed with an almost religious fervor that their dreams would all come true. She seemed so sure of things, so determined that things would turn out right, that Cullen could not help but believe her, and as the night drug on, they found themselves dreaming up plans, things to do, places to go visit, an entire life started to come into focus, just beyond the horizon.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things were too perfect... they had to argue sometime.  
> Also, I'm changing up Josephine's personal quest a bit, to suit my needs. And I headcanon her and Blackwall together SO BAD. I love the little things they say about each other.

 

“You cannot defeat a warrior in open combat”, Talise stood in the sparring ring, warm sunshine sparkling red and gold in her dark hair, the long strands lifted into a high ponytail. Deftly she flipped a small dagger through her fingers as she spoke, standing in front of a small group of scouts. Her lessons had moved from a small room within the keep to outside, and now they were gathered into a small knot in the sparring ring, “They have more strength than you do.”

“So how do we fight them?” A scout spoke up, sharp eyes following Talise’s movements.

“You have several things in your favor. Your speed. Your skills. And your lack of armor”, Talise continued to walk amongst the scouts, as she spoke.

“They wear plate and we don’t. How is that in our favor?” The scout followed Talise as she spoke, sharp eyes taking in her small form.

She nodded in agreement to the scout’s words, but held up the hand not twirling the small dagger, “Plate is far heavier than the armor most of us wear. And that means…”

“We can move faster.” Another scout spoke, understanding starting to gleam in her dark brown gaze.

“We can move more.” One more scout spoke, nodding in agreement.

“We can fight for longer.” Gaining in confidence, the answers started to come faster and faster as Talise walked amongst the scouts, weaving through the small crowd.

“All excellent answers. And all of them are true”, Talise came to a stop, standing in front of Blackwall. The Grey Warden had come down to the training ring earlier, listening intently as Talise taught and guided the scouts, “With the exception of Wardens. I still don’t know how they do it, but they can fight longer and harder than most warriors. You won’t be able to outlast a Warden.”

“But you can still move faster than most of us.” Blackwall spoke then, gesturing to the heavy plate chest piece he was wearing, “My armor is meant to take a blow, but it does hamper movement slightly. Talise favors a very agile fighting style, and it is hard to fight back against that in full plate.”

“Exactly. Every opponent you will face has a weakness. Warriors in general have weaknesses, and those that specialize in fighting styles have specialized weaknesses. Your job, is to find out those weaknesses, and exploit them.” She flipped the dagger in the air, the dark steel gleamed dully in the late afternoon sunlight, and slid it easily into the underside of one of her bracers.

“Remember to study your opponent.” Blackwall’s voice rumbled as he spoke, his eyes tracking over Talise’s movements. She would have been a boon to the Wardens, her senses finally tuned, her focus razor sharp, and her fighting style almost unnatural.

Talise nodded at Blackwall’s words, her deft fingers continuing to flip the dagger over and over as she spoke, “If you find yourself in a fight without knowing much about your opponent, you’ve made a mistake. Use stealth and shadows to watch your opponents, before you make a move.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the shining, tawny golden gleam of Cullen’s hair, carefully swept back, and for a moment she paused, before facing her scouts again, “Templars hold their shields angled down, for instance, it’s a habit from dealing with mages. So, you won’t be able to go under them.”

The scouts nodded, all of them looking towards the small group of templars gathered, who in turn looked at each other, and then back at the scouts. She tugged on the shield Blackwall carried, and the black-haired Warden, catching on to what she wanted, pulled it over his shoulder, holding it as he were facing an opponent.

“But that means you have a clearer shot over the top of the shield.” Talise tugged on the shield once more, and Blackwall moved his arm, until it was angled down, the way Templars carried theirs. She slid one small hand over the top of the shield, demonstrating as she spoke.

“They wear helmets.” The same scout that had mentioned the plate armor spoke again, revealing a weakness, he was unused to fighting warriors in plate.

“They do. A well-placed dagger can get under the helmet and over the gorget around their throat. Or under the arm. You don’t need to land a killing blow, just enough to slow them down, or incapacitate them for a few moments.”  Talise motioned to one of the templars with a black gloved hand, “Can we pick on you for a moment?”

The young templar blinked, his eyes wide as he took in the scouts, all studying him openly, blushing in response, as he turned to Cullen. The Commander did not answer for a moment, he was staring at Talise with an almost dreamy expression on his face, lost in thought. When the templar cleared his throat, Cullen’s stubble-covered face darkened, having been caught out mooning over Talise, and nodded to the templar, “Go on. It’s… um… a good idea.”

Instead of sparring with the templar, Talise had the scouts try to find weak points in his armor, pointing out areas they missed. Her fingers slid beneath the templar’s bracer, wiggling it and demonstrating how you could get a dagger into it, cutting into the arm, and Cullen moved, stepping into the sparring ring.

“This is why you must make sure your armor fits well. A dagger cannot penetrate plate, and an assassin or spy won’t try to. They’ll try to get under or around the armor. It only takes a small cut for a poisoned blade to make you ill.” He spoke to the templars and warriors, his honeyed gaze flicking over them as he took an opportunity to teach them.

“I’d say Talise has done a fine job of getting under yours Commander”, Blackwall grinned as he held an arm out for a scout to inspect.

“Yes… well…” Cullen blushed to the roots of his hair, while Talise smirked up at him from the opposite side of the templar.

“We can’t say Cullen has gotten under Talise’s armor, since she doesn’t like wearing much of it” Iron Bull grinned, leaning on the wooden fence of the ring, his great axe propped up against it.

“We are not talking about me. Or Cullen”, Talise fought back a grin even as she spoke, “We’re training.”

“Have you and the Commander sparred yet?” A templar blurted out the question, only to flush when several of the scouts started giggling.

“I’d wager they have.” A Templar spoke then, grinning openly at his commanding officer. Cullen reflexively rubbed at the back of his neck, words beyond him for a moment. While he was openly courting Talise now, no longer even trying to hide his feelings for her, the knowledge that everyone knew, all those rumors had turned out to be true, still brought a flush to his cheeks.

“Last time they sparred we heard them”, the grin on Iron Bull’s face was positively wicked, and both Cullen and Talise blushed at his words.

“No…  I meant…” The templar, a young man who could not yet even grow a full beard, was blushing harder than either the commander or the famed assassin, if that was possible.

“To answer your question, we’ve been in this practice ring a few times.” Talise grinned at the templar, dropping into a perfect curtsy, even in sleek leggings that clung to her legs like a second skin, and her blackened leather armor, in front of Cullen, “What say you, Commander Rutherford, shall we?”

For an answer, Cullen shrugged his surcoat off, and hung it on the fence of the sparring ring, as a cheer went through the templars gathered to watch, drawing even more attention. He did not preen, or taunt Talise, he simply stood in the middle of the ring, quietly exuding a dominant, masculine strength as he watched her with honeyed eyes.

As they stood there, staring at each other, eyes meeting each other in a clash of golden amber and sky-touched blue, Talise slid a long dagger from the harness on her back, and Cullen held out an arm, taking the shield offered from a nearby templar. A whispered rush slid around the ring, Iron Bull taking several bets as Talise started to circle Cullen with slow, predatory steps. Her free hand reached for the black scarf she wore, and she drew the dark material up over her full-lipped mouth, and then her nose, until the edge rested on her full cheek bones, obscuring her features from view. It was not a move meant to hide her face, everyone knew who she was already, but as that scarf slid over her features, Talise faded from view. When her bright gaze lifted to Cullen’s again, it was the Ghost of Ferelden looking up at him.

He sucked in a breath, the air ringing with noise as he slid his sword free of its scabbard, turning slowly as Talise moved, not yet daring to move against her, keeping his shield held close to him. Old habits, ingrained to him for years, had him holding his shield tilted down, just as Talise had mentioned, and she lifted a dark brow at it, then looked back up at him. Another dagger slid into view, and the assassin spun it in her grasp, until the length of it ran alongside her wrist, she would block with that one, a move Cullen had watched numerous times.

The air grew thick with anticipation, every scout and templar seemed to hold their breath, Iron Bull and Blackwall exchanged knowing grins, and Talise started to edge closer to Cullen as she prowled around him. She would be within striking distance of his sword soon, would have to counter the momentum from his shield, avoid his sword, and just as he moved, pushing out with his shield, a scream echoed from inside the keep.

The noise hung in the air for a moment, echoing off the ancient, magical stones of the keep. Talise blinked, her gaze darting from Cullen to the keep. The soldiers and templars watching the fight reached for their weapons, Iron Bull and Blackwall both drew their swords, as the crowd gathered around the ring continued to watch the main doors of the keep.

A moment later, Varric burst from through the doors, shouting about an assassin attack, followed closely by Cassandra, who shouted over the dwarf, the House of Repose was making a move against Josephine. Cullen and Talise sprang into action, the commander sent soldiers to the main keep, and then some towards the gates of the castle. Blackwall followed the soldiers, pushing to the lead and shouting for Josephine as he ran into the main keep, sword drawn, shield held at the ready. Talise rounded up the scouts, sending them towards the ramparts, shouting a reminder to remember their training.

Sera stood beside her, her golden blonde hair gleaming in the light as the elf looked at Talise, “These aren’t yours then?”

“Orlesian. I told Josephine this damn plan of hers wasn’t going to work”, Talise slid her daggers back into their sheaths on her back, pointing towards Cullen’s quarters, “They’re going to make a run for it. I’m going to watch from there.”

“Bit obvious, don’t you think?” Sera giggled as she slid an arrow lose from the quiver on her back.

“Yes, but that’s the point. If they’re in the keep, if they’ve been paying attention, they know Cullen and I are… close. They’ll assume I’ll hunt for them from a safe spot, and that includes Cullen’s quarters.” As she spoke, Talise turned, heading for the stairs past the Herald’s Rest, the end of her dark ponytail swinging as she moves.

“Which are above the main gate. Fastest way out of the castle, and she’ll be sitting over it”, Iron Bull grinned as he moved, making his way towards Cassandra. The Seeker and the Qunari mercenary exchanged glances, before heading towards the barn, intent on sweeping it for anyone trying to steal a mount an escape.

Talise’s booted feet came to a stop above the main gate, and she tugged at the black scarf up over mouth and nose, up to her high cheekbones, obscuring the lower half of her face. Her gaze narrowed on the doors to the main hall, as a shadowy figure emerged, moving down the steps, almost a blur of movement. Sera leaned out of the door to Cullen’s office, having seen the same figure, and at Talise’s nod, the elf knocked an arrow in her bow, aiming for the figure.

Talise slipped down the stairs, cloaking herself in shadows as she moved to the path heading towards the main gate. The Orlesian assassin was too busy looking over his shoulder, the keep was bristling with soldiers, all of them armed and looking for Josephine’s attackers. When his gaze swung back to the main keep, he slid to a stop, just within arm’s reach of Talise. She had appeared out of thin air, shadows swirling and solidifying into her form just as the other assassin had turned to look towards the main gate.

“Ghost… you must understand. We had a contract to fulfill”, the man nearly babbled, his eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. Talise was regarding him through bright eyes, her gaze focused on him, and cold with intensity as she stared at him.

She said nothing in return, but the hiss of steel sounded in the air as she drew a long dagger, dripping with a purple poison so dark it nearly appeared black. Her opponent blinked, reached for his last dagger, and Talise struck. In a blur of movement, she moved, embedding the poisoned dagger in his neck with one move, and then stepping back out of his reach.

Slowly the assassin dropped to his knees, hands rising to the dagger in his throat, as a crowd of people gathered. Cassandra and Iron Bull pushed their way past the people, both had drawn their weapons when Talise had appeared; the Seeker looked wide-eyed as the dying assassin fell to his knees, fingers wrapped around Talise’s dagger, streaks of purple already starting to show on his face, the poison flowing through the man’s veins. Bull kept his great axe pointed at the man, but his gaze flicked to Talise, taking in her appearance as she stood, watching the man slowly die.

“Well little love… you just appeared out of thin air”, the Qunari mercenary grinned at her, finally lifting his axe as the assassin fell face first into the cold mud.

“I have that habit”, her words were muffled behind the scarf that covered her mouth and cheeks. The assassin’s body was still twitching, his fingers digging into the mud in one last futile attempt at survival. Talise leaned down, and tugged the dagger from the man’s neck; despite the coldness in her gaze, she murmured a short prayer, and closed the dead man’s eyes with a gloved hand.

“Blackwall took one down in Josephine’s office, Cullen and Christopher cornered the last one in the library.” Cassandra held out a scrap of cloth to Talise, and then sheathed her own sword.

“Is everyone alright?” Talise took the cloth Cassandra offered, wiping down her dagger carefully before she sheathed it.

“Valissia and Amelia were there when the assassin got to the library, but they are fine” Cassandra answered, motioning with a hand towards the keep.

“And Christopher? And Cul—The Commander?” she turned her gaze to the soldier who had spoken.

“The Herald has a few cuts. Valissia healed the Commander after the assassin was killed.” Iron Bull watched Talise as she bent down, searching through the now dead’s assassin’s pockets. Nimble fingers flipped open pockets, tugging a few notes free.

“Cullen took a hard blow to the head”, Cassandra spoke then, her eyes widening as the look on Talise’s face turned murderous, already soldiers were coming to move the assassin’s body. Cassandra gave a few orders to the soldiers, and turned back to look at Talise, only to find the assassin was stalking up the steps to the main hall of the keep.

Both the Seeker and the Qunari warrior followed Talise, as she walked towards the main hall of the keep, easily taking the stairs two at a time. She had yet to tug down the scarf covering the lower half of her face, and dressed in black armor, weapons visible, she was an intimidating sight for many, who had never seen her work before. The crowd of onlookers that had gathered in the main hall parted like the ocean for Talise, as she strode in, her eyes gleaming with a barely held anger.

Josephine’s eyes widened as Talise stepped up to them. She was holding a bandage to Blackwall’s arm, and the Warden was insisting that he was fine. His complaints died as he saw Talise, standing before him, bristling with anger, and seeming to have every dagger and knife in all Skyhold on her frame somewhere.

“Are we done trying to be diplomatic about this?” Talise tugged down the scarf as she spoke, raising a dark eyebrow at Josephine.

“We need to explore every possible diplomatic avenue”, Josephine responded, tying the bandage around Blackwall’s arm.

“We have. The Du Paraquettes are not going to let this matter drop, obviously, or they would have canceled the contract with the House of Repose”, one gloved hand gestured to soldiers, as they carried the body of an assassin out of the keep.

“I have to agree with Talise. If there is a way to resolve this faster, than we need to take it”, Blackwall murmured.

“There is a way. We take the contract out of the vaults. Without a contract to honor, they will back off”, Leliana spoke, slightly winded, carrying her bow with her as she walked up behind Talise.

“I agree with Leliana”, Iron Bull chimed in, settling his great axe on his back.

“This is my problem, and I do not wish to make any trouble”, The Antivan ambassador shook her head no at Leliana, still holding a bandage to Blackwall’s arm.

“You already have Josephine”, as Talise spoke, her gaze lifted to Cullen and Christopher, emerging from the library. Cullen was rubbing at a tender spot on the back of his head, Christopher had his arm wrapped around Valissia, who leaned heavily on him, clearly exhausted, “You made trouble when you insisted this stupid idea of raising a bunch of idiots to nobility. And Christopher, you’re a bigger idiot for going along with it.”

Talise had never spoken with so much venom in her voice, and the Herald, over a foot taller than her, stopped in his tracks, his dark green gaze wide. Beside him, Valissia pushed away from his side, glaring up at him, “Is this about this thing with Josephine? I told you the House of Repose would not let this go.”

“I thought it would be better to take a more diplomatic approach with this.” Christopher muttered, dropping his gaze from Valissia’s furious gray eyes.

“Well, we now know clearly they won’t stop. I am not letting another one of their assassins into Skyhold”, Talise shot an icy glare at Josephine, and the ambassador blinked in response, unused to this side of the assassin.

“I agree. It would have been faster to do it this way from the beginning” Leiliana spoke, coming to stand behind Talise, “I will send my best agents.”

“I still think we could use diplomacy to bring this to an end”, still determined to bring her problems to a diplomatic end, Josephine continued to argue, letting Valissia take the bandage from her arm. The redheaded mage looked closely at the wound, before holding her hand over the cut, a soothing green glow emanating from her hand as she healed the wound.

Talise shook her head at the ambassador, the movement sending the end of her ponytail slithering over one black-leather covered shoulder, “You can do whatever you want Josephine. I’m going to the House of Repose, I’m getting into the vaults, and I am destroying the contract. If your diplomatic connections can get your plan accomplished before I get to the contract, so be it.”

“And if I don’t approve of this idea?” Christopher arched a dark eyebrow in question, folding his large arms over his equally large chest.

“Unless you plan on throwing me in jail, and putting me under guard, I’m going to the House of Repose. You can disapprove it all you want, it won’t stop me.” Talise met Christopher’s gaze with her own, clearly not backing down from her plan.

Amelia swiped at her mouth, wiping away the blood from a split lip, “I’ll go get my gear.”

“Do you need me to go?” Valissia questioned, not lifting her storm-colored gaze from Blackwall’s arm as she studied the healed wound.

Talise lifted one shoulder in a shrug, her blackened armor shifting as she moved, “If you want to. I won’t take you into the vaults with me though.”

“No. Valissia is not going.” Christopher spoke then, and shook his head, crossing powerful arms over a well-muscled chest, giving Valissia a commanding look.

“The decision is not yours to make Christopher, and since you already took the wrong course of action here, I’m going to agree with Talise on this one.” At the Herald’s tone, Valissia looked up, arching an eyebrow in challenge. Her voice dripped with ice as she said his name, each word carefully enunciated in annoyance.

Cullen had not spoken a word during the dispute, uncharacteristically choosing to stay quiet. The change in Talise, from the sweet, soft woman who held him during nightmares, to the focused, intense, assassin standing in front of him, was startling. She was openly questioning the Herald’s decisions, had snapped at Josephine, and had stated her intentions, ignoring the Herald’s objections.

“I don’t disagree with the decision. But perhaps we should wait until we all have a chance to calm down”, he spoke then, pulling his hand away from his throbbing head. The blow he had taken had stunned him, which had been the intent, and he saw stars for several moments, gathering his wits about him in time to stop an assassin who was fighting with Amelia.

“I am perfectly calm”, Talise’s sharp retort, and the gleam in her summer bright gaze said she was anything but calm. Behind her visible anger, an intense fear shone in her gaze as she looked at Cullen, her fingers trembled until she curled them into fists.

“Perhaps we should finish this discussion in the war room”, Christopher spoke then, lifting his gaze from Valissia, who met his look with one of her own, to the onlookers around the main hall. Everyone was clearly listening in, many pretending not to pay attention, many openly gawking at the brewing argument, but everyone was absorbing every word spoken. The hallway echoed with the ongoing discussion as everyone moved to the war room.

Michel dabbed at Amelia’s split lip with a handkerchief, and Talise found herself standing at Cullen’s side, hands shaking as she reached up to the swelling knot on the back of his head. Despite her gentle touch, Cullen hissed at the contact, and Talise’s eyes darkened with anger. She shot Josephine a look full of venom, while leaning over the table and holding a hand out to Valissia, “Do you think you have one more spell in you?”

“Here… let me do it”, Magdalena swept into the room, her loose skirts trailing behind her as she walked. With her silver woven hair left down, and carrying her staff, she looked very much like a Rivaini seer. Standing on tiptoe, she held a hand over the back of Cullen’s hand, and cast her spell, the whites of her eyes showing as her dark gaze rolled backwards. The commander could not suppress a shiver as he was healed, the magic rolled off Magdalena in waves, but when she pulled back, the pain from the blow, the ache in his joints, even in his hands, was gone.

“We should come up with a plan. Quickly, before word reading the House of Repose. But we cannot just rush in there blind”, Leiliana spoke.

“I have the plan” Talise tugged the scarf down from around her face with an irritated movement, “I am taking Valissia and Amelia, we’re going to Val Royeaux. The headquarters for the House of Repose is there, along with the vaults.”

“I do think we need to move on the House of Repose. They’ve now proven to be a threat. We should send soldiers to Val Royeaux”, Cullen spoke, sliding an arm around Talise, his amber gaze darting to the top of her head when she stiffened beside him.

“I can get there and back on my own faster”, the idea of riding to the capital of Orlais with a battalion of soldiers sent chills down the assassin’s spine. Long used to hiding in the shadows, and working from the cover of darkness, any undue attention felt wrong to her.

“You’re not facing them alone”, Cullen countered, meeting her summer bright gaze with a stubborn set to his jaw, and a determined look in his eyes.

“We can’t march soldiers into Val Royeaux looking for the vaults, the Inquisition would be accused of trying to take over”, Josephine responded, looking scandalized at the very idea.

“I agree, we could send some of my agents with Talise. She’s been training some of them herself”, Leliana nodded to Josephine’s words, but her gaze softened as she looked at Cullen. She knew why the commander was suggesting soldiers go to Val Royeaux, to protect the woman he had his arm wrapped around, “However, we could send a small detachment, very small, to wait on the outskirts, more of an escort.”

“Close enough they could get in to the city if needed, we’ll need a cover story as to why they are there.” Cullen was visibly relieved to find the Spymaster on his side, and even more relieved when Talise relaxed beside him.

Cullen was offering her a compromise, and Talise knew it. Even as she chafed at the idea of leaving Skyhold with more than a handful of agents, she would agree to it, if only to make Cullen feel more at ease with her leaving, “They cannot follow into the city.”

“I want to come. I can help” Cole seemingly appeared out of thin air, most of the occupants in the room jumping with his appearance.

Except for Talise, who met his pale gaze with her own summer bright one; she regarded the other rogue for a moment, nodding in agreement, “If you want Cole. But things will get messy.”

“They tried to hurt Josephine. They will try again. We must protect her.” Cole answered, peering at Talise from under the wide brim of his odd hair.

“I’m going”, Amelia slipped from under Michel’s arm to stand beside Cole, crossing her arms over her chest, “The asshole sucker punched me. I owe someone for that.”

“You’ll need a healer.” Valissia pointedly ignored Christopher as she spoke, although she still stood close to him.

“I’m going.” The Herald’s voice carried in the room, and he crossed his arms over his chest, his stance brooking no argument.

The arguments started anyways, Christopher was met by a chorus of No’s, much to his annoyance, and several moments were spent arguing back and forth about things. Finally, Josephine broke through the debate, “The Inquisition cannot be openly seen hunting down a house of assassins. This must be done quietly. As Herald, you cannot be seen anywhere near Val Royeaux until this is over.”

Christopher opened his mouth to argue, only to close it when he realized the truth of the Antivan ambassador’s words. His gaze drifted to Valissia, and although she was still glaring at him, she had not yet left his side; as mad as she was at him, she was still with him. His large hand reached for hers, and she squeezed his fingers gently.

“We can sneak soldiers into Val Royeaux, to be closer if needed”, Cullen spoke, breaking the fragile peace that had been achieved in the room.

“No. If they are seen we will be given away. The House of Repose is expecting retribution, I am already at a disadvantage”, Talise shook her head at Cullen, meeting his stubborn gaze with one of her own.

“Outside the city is too far away if you need help”, the commander responded, his voice rising as his temper did.

“Inside the city is too close for safety. If we are exposed, we will be at risk”, Talise shook her head, looking towards both Amelia and Valissia for help with her argument. Valissia would not meet her gaze, and Amelia shook her head, clearly wanting no part of the brewing argument.

“Which is exactly why you should you have soldiers nearby” Cullen responded tensely.

As Cullen and Talise argued, Blackwall offers his uninjured arm to Josephine, and Leliana followed them. Amelia took Cole by the arm, gently drawing the not quite spirit out of the room, followed by Michel. Valissia and Christopher stayed, offering their own opinions. Magdalena watched from the far end of the war table, her dark gaze bouncing from Cullen and then Talise, but she stayed quiet.

“I will accept soldiers waiting on the outskirts. But they cannot come into the city. If something goes wrong, we can make it to the edge of the city, where they will be waiting.” Talise gritted the words out, one booted foot tapping impatiently against the stone floor as she spoke.

“Cullen, it does seem like a fair compromise”, Christopher spoke then, trying to ease the growing tension between Cullen and Talise. The Commander of the Inquisition and the Ghost of Ferelden were glaring at each other, each unwilling to bend.

“One day. If you haven’t contacted the troops waiting for you after one day in the city, they will have orders to go in and look for you”, Cullen’s jaw clenched as he spoke, the muscles ticking as he fought to keep his voice from rising.

“I can’t get into the vaults and out in just a day!” Losing patience with the situation, and unaccustomed to taking such strident orders, Talise lost control, and her voice rose to a shout.

“You don’t have to. You simply must contact the soldiers. I’m sending Rylen and a force small enough to be unnoticed, but large enough to be of use.” Gritting his teeth, Cullen kept his voice low, even as Talise’s had risen in volume.

Talise pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and breathing deeply for several moments, trying in vain to get control of her temper, “Is this absolutely necessary?”

Christopher spoke again, ignoring the way Valissia stiffened at his side, “Yes, it is. For me to agree to it, you’ll have to agree to this plan. Rylen and a small squadron of troops will accompany you to Val Royeaux, they will wait for you on the outskirts.”

“And you will provide at least daily updates to Rylen while you’re within the city. But this must be done quickly.” Cullen spoke again, folding his arms over his armored chest as he looked down at Talise. The idea of her facing down an entire guild of assassins terrified him, and it was his fear that drove him to make such demands.

“I’m not a child Cullen.” Talise winced as she said the words, she sounded like a child arguing her point.

“I’m aware of that Talise. But you are not facing down just one target this time. The Ghost of Ferelden has done many things, but you have yet to take on an entire house of assassins by yourself.” Past his anger and frustration at Talise, Cullen’s emotions ran deep, the idea of Talise storming into Val Royeaux and taking on an assassin’s guild terrified him.

“Are you saying I cannot do this?” Talise blinked, her anger rising again. She knew why Cullen was insisting on such a presence on this mission, and her heart softened at it. At the same time, she had been independent for so long, operating on her own, that the idea of reporting her every move to someone rankled on her nerves.

“And that’s our cue”, Valissia whispered to Christopher, catching him by the sleeve and tugging him towards the doors. They were closely followed by Magdalena, who had remained silent during the debate, but wore a grin as she walked from the war room towards Josephine’s office. Christopher followed, rubbing at his temples with a large, calloused hand. Valissia turned, as the doors to the war room were slammed shut, and she took several steps back down the hallway, her brows drawing together in concern.

“No Mija. Leave them be”, Magdalena curls a wrinkled hand around Valissia’s arm, shaking her head no, “You never come between a lion and his mate.”

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We gotta have a war table sex scene at least once.
> 
> Music: Wicked Game by Ursine Vupline, featuring Annaca

Cullen put every muscle, all the force he had, into slamming the doors to the war room. The thunderous noise as the heavy wooden doors collided and shut made Talise wince, and echoed down past Josephine’s office. Once the doors were shut, he leaned against them, both hands curling into aching fists against the polished, carved wood.

His head was swimming, and not from the blow he had taken earlier. Talise had crafted an ambitious plan, the House of Repose now a target in and of itself. The idea of her facing down a guild of assassins, by herself, sent chills down Cullen’s spine, and he shut his warm honey gaze against the emotions thundering in his head.

“I have to do this. It’s for the good of the Inquisition.” Swallowing past her racing heart, she spoke, still standing by the war table.

 “Maker take the damned Inquisition!!” He roared the words, uncaring who heard them, one fist slamming into the doors. The movement sent a jolt of pain through his hand, and he gritted his teeth against the ache.

Talise blinked, her eyes wide, and she leaned on the edge of the war table. Gone was the coldly confident assassin, who had slid a poisoned blade through a man’s throat as easily as she slid a knife through butter at dinner, “I’m sorry Cullen. But I must do this. We knew this day was coming when the contract on Josephine was revealed.”

“I knew no such thing.” He still leaned against the doors to the war room, his back to her, his forehead propped on one of his arms, “You cannot seriously mean to go to Val Royeaux and storm the House of Repose’s vaults.”

 “The House of Repose are not all-powerful. Anyone’s defenses can be breached. I did it to the royal keep Denerim. This will be easier.” Talise took a small step, and then one more, towards Cullen, raising a hand and reaching out for him.

“No matter your reasons for breaking into the keep in Denerim, you could have faced execution for it. You could be killed if you are caught now.” He felt the air shift, heard the subtle scrape of her leather boots against the stone flooring, the sound and the small rush of air giving Talise’s movements away.

Talise heaved a breath, raking a hand through her dark hair to tug it back from her bright gaze, “I may die for the Inquisition. I may die the next time I leave to go hunt a dragon. I may die, and I would willingly give up my life, to defeat Corypheus. But if that happens, then I will go assured that I gave everything I had for Ferelden; and for the Inquisition.”

He said nothing, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain for a moment. His head throbbed, his heart ached, he flexed his gloved fingers against the door several times, and he realized he had never been so unsure of what to do. Torn between screaming and yelling, releasing the anger, the fear, the tumult of emotions surging through him, and tugging Talise to him, desperate to hold her, he did nothing, just pressed his forehead harder against the doors to the war room.

“Cullen, would you at least look at me?” Slowly she pushed away from the war table, and walked towards him, rising onto the balls of her feet as she walked, as was her habit. When she stood behind him, close enough to touch, she reached out for him, her slim fingers shaking as they slid down his back.

“No.” he felt her fingers slide through the fur trim on his surcoat, felt the slight tug as she ran her hand down his back, and he shuddered. Once more the urge to send her away, to force her to go somewhere, anywhere safer, rose in him, and his hands tightened into fists once more.

“Then let me out. I understand if you need some time to think about things”, when he didn’t turn to her, when his hands balled into tight fists, Talise withdrew her hand. Knowing that Cullen would need time, and knowing that she had much to do, one slim hand reached for the door knob, leaning under Cullen’s arm on the door.

He turned them, a suddenly fury washing over him, taking Talise’s shoulders in his powerful hands, and walking her backwards until she bumped into the war table, “What were you thinking?”

“That I needed to do what was best for everyone.” Her booted feet scrabbled for purchase on the stones, slipping as she dug her heels in, until he simply overpowered her and pushed her to the edge of the table.

“And that means putting yourself at risk?” One gloved hand slammed down on the table, rattling the pieces laying on the map, sending several rolling to the wooden floor, where they landed with small thuds.

“You do it!! You lead the Inquisition’s Army into full battle. So why should I be any different?” Losing her patience with his overbearing actions, Talise slammed her hands into his chest plate, pushing back against him. The movement got her nothing but sore palms, he was as immovable as the mountain Skyhold was built on.

“I’m trained to lead!!” His hands grabbed hers, holding still as he leaned back into her, digging his heels into the stone floor.

“I’m trained to kill people! So, tell me why I am any different?!” Talise’s voice rose to match his in volume until they were shouting at each other, uncaring that their voices echoed down the hallway leading to Josephine’s office, where the ambassador tried her best to ignore the argument and finish the papers sitting on her desk, waiting for her signature.

“I love you! That’s why!” He roared the words at her, his hands gripping painfully tight around her shoulders. For a moment his grip on his control slipped, and he shook her, her head wobbling back and forth before she pushed back against his shoulders.

“Cullen”, as soon as he shouted, yelled the words back at her, she knew the cause of his anger, the same reason why she had been so furiously, blindingly angry in the first moments after the attack. Talise breathed his name out, barely a whisper, as she rose to her toes to place a kiss to his jaw, “Everything will be ok.”

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he lowered his head, burying his face in her shoulder and wrapping his powerful arms around her, pulling her to him. He was still vibrating with anger, still tense with it, but he could not resist the siren’s call to him that was Talise’s blue eyes looking up at him, “I thought I told you to skip the bath this morning.”

For a moment she said nothing, confused in his change of behavior, her brow furrowing in confusion, “What?”

“I told you this morning, before the sun was up, if memory serves, that I wanted you to smell like me today”, his eyes darkened with arousal as he rubbed his jaw along the line of her neck, his fingers curling her hair and tugging it back to reveal more of her silky skin to him.

Early in the morning, as they had been curled around each other, Cullen had told Talise to skip her morning bath, enjoying the smell of oakmoss and elder flower on her smooth skin. A hiss left her as he tugged her head backwards, her scalp prickling when his fingers tightened more in her hair, “I wasn’t going to spend the day training agents for Leliana smelling like you Cullen.”

“Well then, we’re going to remedy that. Right now.” His lips claimed hers with bruising force, his teeth raked into the tender skin of her lip, while his gloved fingers went to the front of her leather chest piece, and he popped the clasps on it with a practiced ease, shoving it past her shoulders.

It hit the war table with a clatter, heavy with a stash of hidden knives, the sound echoing in the room, along with Talise’s gasp, “Cullen, what are you doing?”

“Do you really need to ask?” he smirked down at her, amber eyes shining with arousal, shoved his surcoat off his shoulders, and started to work on the rest of his armor. Pieces of it hit the stone floor with a clatter, and Talise winced at the sound, knowing everyone would hear it.

“Considering you were furious with me just a few seconds again, yes, yes I do need to ask.” She watched him through wide, summer bright eyes, sooty lashes lowering as she followed his hands. A flicker of interest gleamed in her gaze, when he let another piece of armor hit the floor with a clang, and she looked back up at him again, a dark eye brow arching at him in question.

“Oh love… I’m still mad at you”, Cullen chuckled at her words, his voice deepening with arousal as he spoke, popping open the clasp on his gorget, pulling it off, and then the chest piece in one smooth motion, tossing them towards a chair.

“So why then are you stripping off your armor?”, Talise’s eyes were growing hazy with arousal as he pulled his armor off, the padded shirt he wore beneath his armor parting to reveal a wide swath of muscled skin.

“Just because I’m mad at you”, he tugged the shirt free, and stood before her in a linen tunic, crumpled from his body heat, the laces undone, leather pants and his boots, leaning on the table towards her in a display of masculine power, “Little love… doesn’t mean I don’t want you. I always want you.”

“Even when you realized I could read your reports upside down?”, His gaze had captured hers, and unable to look away, she started to tug her armor off with practiced ease, talented fingers popped open hidden clasps, and then slid daggers free, dropping them onto the table.

“Even when you stormed into the great hall and announced your intention, to everyone listening, of tearing through the House of Repose to get to their vaults”, he nearly growled the response, his large hands reaching for her toned legs, grasping the top of one knee high leather boot, and yanking it off.

“They had to know how I would react”, She grins impudently up at him, sliding her hands beneath his shirt and running her fingers up his chest, only to have her hands caught in his.

“Talise, I’m going to warn you. I can’t be gentle right now. I can’t be like I was last night.”

“You weren’t gentle last night”, Talise tugged her hands free of his, tugging at the collar of her shirt to reveal the whisper burn on her neck and shoulders, the imprint of his teeth on the tender skin of her collar bone.

The sight of her, wearing his marks, drew him out of his anger induced haze. A bolt of arousal coursed through him, suddenly his pants were too snug around his thickening length as he looked up at her, his chest heaving while he drew in a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t lie Commander. You meant every mark.”, she smirked up at him, “You may not have done them on purpose, but you’re not sorry. Just like you’re not sorry I walked back to my room smelling like you. Just like you’re not sorry I took a healing tonic Valissia gave me, because it hurt to walk.”

He closes his eyes at her words, wide shoulders trembling with a shiver as she spoke, “I’m not sorry. I will be sorry later, but no, I’m not sorry right now.”

“Commander Rutherford, lost all control over a woman.” She was goading him, testing the limits of his control. It had become her favorite pastime, pushing Cullen to the breaking point; every teasing glance, every accidental brush of her fingers, every time she stretched, or ran a hand through her hair, she knew exactly what she was doing. Now, half-sitting on the war table, her armor scattered along with his across the floor, her lips pressing kisses into his neck, her teeth raking against the sensitive skin there, she was pushing again.

“Talise…” He groaned, large fingers clenching into the table as he fought for control. Every time Talise set out to tease and torment him, he knew what she was doing. He lost track of the number of times the assassin had sauntered in his office, wearing some scrap of silk she called a shirt, or those damn suede leggings that laced up the sides, the ones she had worn their first night together. His control, sharpened by the templars into a finely-honed weapon, cracked when Talise was in the room, and shattered every time she set out to seduce him.

“How far can I push you?? Hmmm? Before you lose that control once more?”

“Not. Far.”

“It’s a powerful feeling, bringing a man like you to your knees” she grinned wickedly, her fingers curling around his length, and stroking him through his pants.

He lifted his head from her shoulder, remembering why they were in the war room in the first place. Once more his anger returned, and he pulled her from her spot, leaning against the war table, until she is pressed against his frame, his aroused length pressing into the taut plane of her belly, “You’ve driving me crazy. I sit here, in this room, think of you, and I want you. I wake up thinking about you. I go to sleep thinking about you.”

As he spoke his calloused fingers were tugging at her shirt, lifting the thin linen up over her head, tossing it onto the heap where he had pulled his armor off, and then filling his hands with her breasts, pinching her pink nipples until they hardened into points. Talise’s back arched into his touch, and she whimpered, grabbing handfuls of his shirt to steady herself.

“Giving up lyrium is not as hard as watching you saunter around this place. The first time we sparred, and you pulled a dagger on me, it took everything I had not to pull you into the barracks and fuck you against a wall somewhere” he groaned out the words, backing her up to the war table once more, leaning her into it with his frame while he tore the ties on her leggings apart, the tiny strips of leather snapping in his grip.

Her eyes were wide at his actions. He had been commanding, sweetly domineering last night, but he had not overpowered her like now. A shiver ran down her spine, as she looked up at him, his hand sliding down her thigh and lifting it, while he leaned into her body, lifting her onto the war table, “Here?? Now?”

“Yes sweetheart. Here. And now,” Cullen smirked down at her, she was flushing, the color spreading down her cheeks and across the tops of her shoulders, he had watched the color slide down her body, time and time again, last night.

“Going to try and fuck some sense into me then?” her fingers tugged on her leggings, shoving them down as his hands went to her feet, tugging her boots off and throwing them across the room. Fire gleamed in her eyes, arousal, and anger and frustration all showed in the sky-touched depths as she looked up at him, her lips parted as she panted.

“No. There is no fucking sense into you. You make your decisions and I have to live with the consequences.” His hands took her leggings from her as she shoved them down, dropping them onto the floor, his hips pushed between her legs, spreading them, and he looked down to see her covered in the thinnest scrap of lace, “I’m keeping those.”

One dark eyebrow lifted as she looked down, grinning when she saw his focus was on the lace she wore instead of plain small clothes, “Do you have some secret fetish for lace and silk then?”

“I have a fetish”, he leaned back, gripping her leg in his hand and lifting it until he could bite at the inside of her calf, “For you. Your legs, and how they wrap around my hips.”

He bit into the porcelain smooth skin above her knee, hard enough that she felt his teeth dig in and leave a mark on her pale skin, “For this spot right here”, his fingers brushed against the tender skin just beneath her belly button, “And how you jump when I run my tongue over it.”

“Cullen….” She whimpered, her hips arching up off the table she leaned back on, desperately wanting his touch over her slick folds and swollen clit.

“For these. How you tempt me, letting me catch peeks of them through your shirt. The way they bounce as you walk”, he leaned up, biting at the tender curve of the bottom of her breast, the skin so delicate it swelled with a bruise immediately, and his honey warm eyes gleamed as he watched.

“And this mouth. This smart ass, arrogant mouth”, one calloused thumb brushed against her lower lip, and she responded instinctively, her lips parting. Talise flicked her tongue against his thumb, her lashes lowering.

“Dammit Talise… you cannot do this to me” he groaned as her lips engulfed his thumb, his eyes closing as he panted, leaning his forehead against hers, “You cannot make me love you, make me want you, and then leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you”, her fingers popped open the buttons on his quilted gambeson with practiced ease, and she tugged it over it his head, taking the linen shirt, he wore beneath it at the same time, and dropping both into a heap of wrinkles on the stone floor.

Words failed him, and instead he skimmed his fingers up her thighs, gripped the panels of lace that covered her, and pulling, shoving the fabric off her body. As soon as she was bare for him, his fingers slid over her with a groan, parting her folds. She was slick for him already, and as he ran his fingers over her, she moaned, her arms shaking as she leaned back on them.

Slowly, but insistently, he pushed one finger into her depths, then two, groaning as he felt her constrict and squeeze his fingers, wetness slicking his fingers. He leaned forward, biting at her neck and then her ear before whispering to her, “You may leave for missions. I may have to put you in the path of danger. But you are mine Talise. Mine.”

When he spoke, she trembled, her legs shaking while she rocked her hips against his hand, pressing herself harder against his fingers, “I will come back Cullen. I promise.”

“When you’re gone, I want you to feel me. Carry the marks I leave on your skin” he growled as she lifted her hips to his hand, pushing one more finger inside of her tight folds, “That’s it… that’s my good girl.”

“Cullen”, her arms gave out, and she leaned back on the table, the carefully placed markers getting shoved out of the way, pushed to each side of the map as she laid down on the table, “Please…”

“Are you begging already? The woman who spoke about bringing me to my knees is begging for me already?”, with his free hand he undid his breeches, shoving them down far enough to tug his swollen cock free. A shudder moved through him as he stroked himself, salty drops flowing from the swollen head of his cock as he did.

Talise lifted her head, watching his powerful hand slide up and down his length as he continued to toy with her body, pulling his fingers from her and rubbing her swollen clit. She was throbbing, her heartrate pulsing in her body as she watched, “Cullen….”

“There’s that whimper. Don’t pout at me, you started it” his grin was one of masculine triumph as he leaned down, rubbing his cock against her wet folds while he stroked himself.

“How did I start it?”

“You stood in that meeting and breathed. That’s all you have to do”, he moved slowly, his hands shaking as he leaned back, rubbing the head of his cock against her slick opening.

“How do you get through the day then, if all I have to do is breathe?”, she moaned, her hips pushing against his cock, he was so close, she could feel him almost there, her folds closing around the head of his swollen cock.

“I have great control. Templar’s taught it to me” to prove his point, he stayed where she was as she arched against him, rubbing her slick folds over his straining erection. He had to close his eyes though, the sight of her was too much for him to bear.

She whined then, a needy sound as her fingers reached out for him, curling around his fingers as they held his cock, “Please please please… I need you.”

“Damn you Talise”, he groaned, pushing himself into her, wincing as she squeezed his length, forcing him to slow down, “I can’t stay mad at you.”

“Cullen… please…” her arms shook with the effort it took to push herself up off the war table, and his arms moved to catch her, wrapping around her back with one arm and bracing himself with the other. She arched in his arms, rubbing her breasts against the muscles of his chest, moaning into his mouth as he started to snap his hips against hers.

It took just a few thrusts and Cullen could feel her body squeeze him tightly, could feel her slickness leaking from him, and he groaned, breaking the kiss to bury his face in her shoulder, pressing kisses and then love bites into the tender skin there, “Maker… I can’t Talise, I can’t hold back.”

“Then don’t Cullen”, her legs wrapped around his hips, squeezing and pulling her up to his thrusts as she whispered, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back, and then coasting up to run through his hair.

“Mine… Mine… Mine…” he groaned the words, his hips slamming into hers each time he spoke them, his amber gaze clenched tight against the pleasure.

“Yours Cullen. I’m yours.” Each thrust threatened to slide her up the table, and she tightened her legs around his waist further, her arms wrapping around his neck, bringing her body flush against his. His arms tightened around her back, holding him to her and she took advantage, pressing kisses into his neck and shoulder. When he moaned, her lips parted, and she sunk her teeth into the spot where his neck met his powerful shoulders; he hissed a curse in response, his hips faltering, and then continuing to snap forward, burying himself in her.

“With me. Need you with me”, he moaned the words, one hand leaving her back to slide over her breasts, pinching her nipples, and then arrowing down her quivering stomach, past the trimmed, wet curls, until he came to the swollen peak of her clit. His calloused fingers rubbed against it, and he cursed when she tightened around him.

Her back arched when he rubbed at her clit, and she could not contain the cry that rose from her lips, his tongue catching the sound as it curled around hers, groaning as he felt her hands tighten in his hair. The familiar burn of white heat skated down her spine, and Talise broke the kiss, her head falling back on her shoulders, “Cullen... I’m so close… please.”

“Tell me what you need love…”

“Harder. I need it harder.”

Cullen cursed, knowing he teetered on the edge himself, and he slammed into her, his hips snapping back and forth. Beads of sweat coasted down his arms and back, Talise shimmered with it, the air was hot, the room was hot, his skin was burning up with the need to make her his. Just as his cock swelled with his release, he felt the tremors wrack Talise’s small frame. Her breath caught, her body tightening and squeezing around his as she sucked in a deep breath, her head tipping back to the ceiling of the war room. He could not let go of her, could not put his hand over her mouth as she screamed his name, and fiercely he did not want to. Let them hear her, let everyone in the keep, the soldiers, the servants, the merchants, the companions, let every Maker damned noble and dignitary hear Talise screaming his name.

With a roar he came, pushing his hips into hers and holding still, his knees wobbling as he spilled into her, in long pulses, until he could feel it leak from her body. Still he stayed pressed to her, moaning in relief, pushing his hips gently against hers, drawing the pleasure out as long as he possibly could. Coasting back to awareness, he curled one hand around the back of her head, drawing her to him, and tucked her dark head against his shoulder, “Maker Talise…”

“Cullen….” She sniffed, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, burying her face in his shoulder, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back, trying to anchor herself to him in some way, “I love you.”

He felt the tremor that ran through her body, felt her shoulders shake, and he pulled her tighter to him, burying his face in her shoulder and neck, “Love you too.”

“Don’t… don’t leave me”, her voice broke on the words, and she winced, not wanting him to see the tears forming in her eyes, even as she felt them clinging to her lashes, threatening to spill down her cheeks, and she burrowed her face into his shoulder, clinging to him.

Her voice was the same as the night he had prayed with her, and he cursed himself, feeling her small frame shudders against his, “No Talise. Never. I will never be able to leave you.”

They clung together for several moments, until he had softened and slipped from her body. True to his word, he kept the silk he had pulled from her body, but let her wear his shirt when he realized he had torn the shoulder of hers. He laced her boots for her, after she tugged her leggings on, and laughed when she had to hold her pants up with one hand. A sigh left him as her trembling hands helped him pull his gambeson on, and then started to buckle his armor on, his fingers trailing over hers as she slid his greaves on.

When she stood, her knees wobbling, and reached for his mantle, his eyes blurred, and he blinked away a sudden rush of emotion, taking it from her and pulling it on. One gloved hand reached for her shoulder, and he brought her to him, cursing as his armor made it difficult to feel her, “Are you alright?”

“I’m… scared. Terrified”, she sighed, resting her head against the cold metal of his breastplate, “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared about.”

“You’re not losing me”, he murmured the words, cupping her face in his hands and lifting it up towards his, “I’m not going to anywhere. Do you have plans for the day?”

Through teary eyes she shook her head, her eyebrows coming together in confusion, “I will meet with Leliana and the scouts later, to form a plan for the House of Repose. I have reports to read in the meantime, but nothing pressing.

“You can read them in my quarters”, he turned to walk towards the door, pulling Talise to his side, “Go change clothes, and get your reports, and spend the day with me. Please?”

“You know people are going to talk about that, if I’m with you all day long.”

He blushed at her words, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck as he guided her through the double doors of the war room, “I know. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“Let me change then”, as they walked past Josephine, the ambassador turned magenta in a blush, and Talise did the same. Cullen felt his cheeks heat, but he wore a grin of masculine pride as he let Talise go towards her room. She looked back over her shoulder several times as she walked away, grinning as she slipped past the Orlesian nobles, who whispered as she walked by.

By late afternoon, the stack of reports and letters Talise had brought with her had dwindled. She sat sideways in a chair, tucked into a corner of Cullen’s quarters, sunlight pouring down over her as she read. Her long hair was loose, hanging over the arm of the chair in waves of dark, gleaming silk, sparking with deep auburn and golden highlights from the late sunlight.

Cullen sank into work, issues orders, reading reports of his own, and making plans for the final push against Corypheus. He had felt her presence all day long though, the smell of water lilies drifting over to him as he read reports. No one who entered his quarters remarked on Talise’s presence in front of the commander, but by the time evening fell, nearly everyone was discussing the days events. The gossip was flowing as much as the ale while the stars wheeled over the top of Skyhold, tiny chips of white light in an endless blue velvet sky.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're off to get rid of Josephine's contract!! This is the first canon part I've come back to since Bull's personal quest, it's nice to be in slightly familiar territory.

 

“Mon petit. You don’t have to go. We can let the Inquisition agents take care of this”, Michel’s rich accent flowed through his words as his spoke, his steely gaze fixed on Amelia.

“I am an agent of the Inquisition. So is Valissia. And so is Talise. I’m not letting my family, the closest thing I have to family outside of my brother, go do this by themselves.” Amelia sighed her response, looking up from the floor where she sat, the floor around her littered with things she needed. Bottles of lyrium, spell books, spare clothes, she carefully examined each one before either discarding it and setting it into nearby stack to pack.

The Orlesian chevalier, sat on the foot of the wide bed in Amelia’s room. It belonged to all three of the women, but lately it had just been Amelia. Calloused fingers ran over the guilt edges of a spell book that the storm mage sitting before him had discarded, “I do not wish to overstep my bounds. But I worry for you.”

Amelia stopped, lifting her shining emeraldine gaze from her task. Sighing, she set a stack of shirts down, and moved, coming to sit on her knees in front of Michel. She slid her fingers through his hair, until she could curl her hand through the shimmering, light golden strands, “Michel, I worry for everyone. But Valissia and Talise and I have been doing this for a long time.”

“This isn’t a single target Amelia. This is the House of Repose.” The chevalier’s eyes were dark with seriousness as he spoke, running his hands through Amelia’s long, golden curls.

For a long moment, Amelia chewed on her lip, studying Michel intently for several moments. Taking a risk, she decided to reveal one of her secrets, and she heaved a deep breath before speaking, “You know Ghost broke into the royal keep in Denerim, into King Alistair’s private quarters…”

“I’ve heard the story. She found evidence of a plot to overthrow Alistair, and did not trust anyone to get it to him.” Michel nodded, staring intently at Amelia. He had told her some of his secrets, including the one about his lineage, and now he felt like he was getting one of her secrets in return.

“I was with her. I stood watch for her at the door to his quarters while she took the proof to him. We didn’t want to get her brother involved, and we knew no one would believe that Jordan had no idea what Talise had been doing.” The words tumbled out in Amelia’s characteristic rush, and she gestured with her hands as she spoke, her eyes growing animated as she spoke.

“So, you came up with a plan to sneak into a king’s royal quarters?” Michel blinked several times, before he narrowed his eyes at Amelia.

“What were we supposed to do? Alistair’s court was crawling with sympathizers, who were trying to overthrow him. We did not know who would have turned on us before we could get the only proof we had to Alistair.”

“You could have been killed!!!” For a moment, Michel lost the courtly manners he was known for, and his voice rose to a near shout. The idea of Amelia and Talise slipping into Alistair’s court, facing execution if they were caught, sent chills down his spine.

“And you haven’t put yourself in harm’s way?” Amelia’s voice rose to match Michel’s, but her hand slid up his cheek, tracing over the scar that slashed one golden eyebrow, and then the one that ran close to his eye. Her touch was at odds with her shout, extremely gentle and featherlight.

Michel froze, his eyes wide as Amelia stared up at him, defiance in her sparkling gaze. He had so many arguments, so many reasons, why she needed to stay, why she had to stay; in that moment he realized that she was right. Amelia had lived free, independent of anyone for years. Fierce determination, and raw independence gleamed in her eyes as she looked up at him, along with a loyalty to Talise he had rarely seen.

One calloused hand slid around Amelia’s waist, and he drew her to him, resting his forehead against hers as his hands cupped her smooth golden cheeks in his hands, “Mon petit. Talise is lucky to have you.”

 

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“You’re not going!!!” Christopher Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, leader of the Inquisition, yelled the words, uncaring who would hear his words. He was standing in his private quarters, watching an immaculately dressed Valissia, wrapped in a perfect deep blue gown, her auburn hair wound into an intricate braid, packed for her trip.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!!” Valissia shouted the words back at him, angrily throwing several bottles of lyrium into her pack, wincing when the bottles clinked noisily against one another.

“This is not your fight Valissia!!” the warrior bellowed the words back out, aware that his deep voice would carry through the open windows of his quarters, that everyone in Skyhold would be aware of his displeasure. In the moment, the son of nobility, raised to maintain a cool façade, did not care who heard his anger.

“Well I will be sure to tell the next assassin that attacks me that it’s not my fight and please point their daggers at someone else. Sound good?” Sarcasm dripped from Valissia’s words as she glared across the bed at Christopher, her small chin tilted up to look at the warrior standing across from her.

Christopher sighed, rubbing at his temples with calloused, battle-scarred hands, “It must have been scary, I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“No. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t scared then and I’m not scared now. I’m angry. This shit never stops Christopher. If it’s not the House of Repose, it will be someone else. You’re the Herald, you have a target on your back we could see from the Anderfels.” Valissia shook her head at Christopher, her chin set stubbornly.

“And what does that have to do with this plan?” At Valissia’s words, Christopher rubbed his temples harder, trying desperately to assuage the headache he felt forming. The weight of everything, the war, the Inquisition, his responsibilities settled heavily on his shoulders, and they drooped beneath it.

“It won’t stop until we stop it. Until we send a clear message to everyone. Every assassin, every spy, every Venatori agent. That we will meet their violence with violence of our own.”

“You’ve been around Talise too long, you’re starting to sound like her.”

“I have tipped the scales. I waited too long to act in Kirkwall, and look what happened.” A tremor vibrated through her words, giving away her emotions. Guilt darkened her stormy gaze, turning it a heavy gray, and after flicking her eyes towards Christopher, Valissia stared sightlessly at the bed, at the bag she was packing.

“You cannot blame yourself for that.” Realization dawned in Christopher’s gaze, a dark green that almost matched the ever-green trees in the Frostbacks.

“I knew Christopher, I knew something was wrong with Anders. I could feel it every time I was around him. And I waited to act. Talise told me she would be back, but I should have acted. Cullen was there, he wouldn’t have let me get hurt… I should have told Cullen what I knew.” Valissia stopped, the words flowing out from her in a rush as she stared at a bottle of lyrium laying on the wide bed.

“Cullen may not have been able to stop Meredith. She was losing her mind. Anders was lost to some Maker damned spirit. Or demon. You would have been made Tranquil, or worse Valissia”, Christopher understood suddenly, knowledge bolting through him. Valissia’s guilt was driving her, as much as her loyalty to Talise. Sighing, he stepped around the bed, one large hand tracing gently down Valissia’s arm, “There was nothing you could do.”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see the dead, the injured. It was awful. I did as much as I could, before I fled.” Valissia shivered, closing her eyes against the memories for a moment.

“I know. But you aren’t to blame. If anyone is to blame, it’s Hawke. For not putting a Maker damned stop to it all sooner”, Christopher had to grit his teeth at the words. He had seen the devastation that the events around the Champion of Kirkwall’s life had started; the mage templar war, the rise of Corypheus, the explosion at Haven. Eventually, the road led to Jordan; and the gaping hole left in three women’s lives over the loss of Talise’s brother.

“No. We are all to blame. There were so many of us that did not act when we should have, who should have done something instead of waiting for someone else to make the move”, Valissia paused, wiping delicately at the tears pooling in her stormy gaze, “The pendulum swings back for every action. Even inaction is a form of action, and it has consequences itself. No one feels the weight of their own consequences. Hawke never has. Alistair sits on the throne and I’m sure he doesn’t. But Talise suffers for every decision made, things are put into play beyond her control, and the pendulum swings back at her.”

“Maker Valissia… you can’t put that on yourself.” Christopher sighed, tugging the spirit mage to him, wrapping his arms around her, and tucked her head underneath his chin.

“Yes, I can. She’s the only family I have. Amelia has Patrick at least. But Talise is it for me. I’m alone without her.” The spirit mage sniffled, wiping at more crystalline tears that slid down her pale cheeks, highlighting the freckles that dotted her skin, “And she has suffered enough already.”

“No. Valissia, no, you’re not alone.” His heart aching, the Herald drew Valissia to him, wishing desperately he could take the burdens Valissia carried. The guilt she had taken on would not let her go, until she had seen things through to the end, whatever end that was, and her loyalty to Talise would not let her be a silent partner either.

 

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In the cool of early morning, Talise stood in Cullen’s quarters. Her leather pack was bulging, packed with everything she would need. Her chocolate dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, the ends dangling down her back. In one hand she held a morning glory, the swirling blues of the petals mirroring her gaze as she studied the flower. The flower had come to represent all she felt for Cullen, how fragile their relationship was, it felt as if nothing more than a hard frost would take him from her.

Fear had driven her, when the assassins from House of Repose had made their move. Seeing Cullen emerge from the library, knowing he had been hurt, had sent icy fingers of fear through her. She had lost everyone to evil, her father to the evil of treachery at Ostagar, her mother to the evil of an archdemon at Denerim, her brother to the evil of Corypheus at Haven. The former templar sleeping upstairs had become the most important person in the world to her, the moment she had seen him, everything had changed for her.

“Love will make you strong mija. Do not fear it” Magdalena whispered the words to her from the doorway, the Rivaini seer leaned against the door frame as she spoke, dark brown eyes soft with emotion as she looked at her niece.

“I lose everyone I love. Love terrifies me.” Talise answered her aunt, heaving a sigh as she set the morning glory down on Cullen’s desk. Every time she had left on a mission, she had left a flower for Cullen, even when she knew he would see it before she left.

“Mi reina, listen to me. You must be willing to fight for him. To protect him. Your love will not be one of peace right now.” Magdalena stepped towards Talise, rising to her tiptoes when her niece cast a look towards the balcony above their heads, listening intently for Cullen.

“I want peace though.” Talise sighed, tucking more items into her back, the need to keep her hands busy nearly overwhelming.

Long used to the bouts of nervous energy Talise had, Magdalena picked up a small vial of poison, and held it out to Talise, alongside a small dagger, “As do we all Talise. But sometimes the path to peace is only found through war.”

Talise nodded, taking the dagger from her aunt, and sliding it under her vambrace, as she spoke, “When this is done, I think I’m done.”

“Done with what?” A raven’s dark eyebrow lifted into a wrinkled forehead as Magdalena watched Talise carefully. She had spoken of many things, of books and food, of flirtations with men, of her frustrations, but never had Talise spoken of being done with anything.

For way of an answer, Talise motioned to the pack sitting on the wide desk in front of her, “This. I’ve lived in the shadows most of my life Maggie. I don’t know how much longer I’ll want to be Ghost.”

A wrinkled hand, covered with swirls of ink, reached for the morning glory, cupping it gently in her palm. Maggie whispered a spell, and the flower stiffened slightly, gleaming as if it had been coated in a thin layer of glass. The petals remained soft to the touch, and still looked as fragile as they did the moment Talise picked them, “There, it will stay fresh for him. And as for you, me reina, listen to me. If you wish to remain the Ghost and do this, then do it. If it would bring you happiness to not be Ghost, then don’t be. But do not make that decision to please a man, even Cullen.”

Talise looked at her aunt under the cover of heavy, sooty lashes, “I want to be happy.”

“We all do mi reina. Are you happy?” The Rivaini seer nodded in agreement, her fingers tracing gently over the morning glory.

Talise heaved a deep sigh, her fingers nervously drumming against the worn leather of her pack, “I thought I was. I was perfectly content living as Ghost. I got to travel and be with Valissia and Amelia.”

“There is a difference between content and happy.”

“Are you happy Magdalena?”

“No mija, I am not. I haven’t been truly happy for years.”

Talise nearly dropped the dagger she was inspecting, her fingers fumbled with it before catching it firmly. The answer was clearly not what she was expecting, and she looked over at her aunt with wide eyes, “When did you stop being happy?”

“After your mother left, I met a man. A Tal-Vashoth, he came through Dairsmuid while I was visiting the Circle.” Maggie reaches for the morning glory, cupping it carefully in her palm, “We traveled together for many years, he worked as a mercenary, sometimes as a body guard.”

“What happened?”

“An arrow. I had gone back to Rivain, and by the time he made it to me, the fever was in his blood. I tried everything. I would have given my soul to a demon, in exchange for his life, but he was beyond saving. He died. My happiness died with him.”

“You…. you… never said anything about him.”

“I prefer to keep some things close to my heart mi reina. You do not talk of Cullen, for the same reasons. The de Villanueva’s are good are keeping secrets. He was mine. Cullen is yours. I will leave you now, I’m sure the commander will want some time with you before you leave”, Maggie leaned forward, pressing her lips against Talise’s cheek, “Be careful. You are the last Montgomery, and one of few de Villanueva’s. Our blood runs in you.”

As Magdalena left through the same door she had come in, Talise heard a few soft thumps, noises that signaled Cullen was awake and getting out of bed. With a sigh, she turned back to wide desk, reaching out to the small dark spots splattered across it, carefully she traced her fingers over the small drops, dark eyebrows knitting together as she studied the droplets. Above her, she heard the now familiar sounds, Cullen splashing water on his face, the clink of his armor as he pulled it on, the ladder creaking as he made his way down it.

Her summer bright gaze was still locked on the dark droplets, stained into the wood grain, when Cullen’s large hand cupped her shoulder, squeezing it gently. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of her head, last night’s stubble catching on the silken strands of her hair.

“It’s yours. When you sat there after the Venatori attack, you bled on the desk”, with his free hand, Cullen reached out and traced the droplets.

“I… I didn’t know.” Without meaning to, Talise leaned against him, although she resisted the urge to turn to him and burrow her face into the fur mantle of his surcoat.

“You were in no position to realize you were bleeding out all over my desk”, the scar that ran down to his lips lifted as he spoke, his warm amber gaze taking in the blood drops, “You don’t have to go. You’ve trained those agents yourself, they can handle it.”

“I do have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because this won’t stop Cullen. Those agents can put a stop to the threat from the House of Repose, but what about the next assassin. The next spy?”, Talise sighed, setting the morning glory down on a clear spot on his desk.

Cullen had faced many things in his life, things that had left him nearly broken. But confessing to Talise that he had heard her talk with her aunt was one of the hardest things he had ever faced, “I heard what Magdalena said.”

“Which part?” Slim fingers picked up a set of lock picking tools, tucked into a black leather case, and she slipped them into a pocket on her pack, making sure the pocket was closed.

“About letting your fear drive you. Are you doing this because you’re scared?” Cullen picked up a dagger, one Talise favored, and held it out to her, watching with his leonine, amber gaze as she slid the weapon into a sheath on the side of her chest piece.

“Yes. I had nothing when I came here. I had Valissia, and Amelia. But I had lost all my family”, Talise turned, leaning back against Cullen’s desk as she looked up at him.

“You’re not going to lose me Talise.” Gently he cupped her pale cheek, running calloused fingers over her silken skin.

Long lashes hide her gaze as she closed her eyes, relaxing into his touch. But her words were heavy with determination, “You’re right. I’m not. Because I am going to send a message to the House of Repose, to any assassin, any spy, any Venatori agent.”

“And that message is?” He lifted a tawny eyebrow in question, cradling her face in his large hands.

She looked up at him, her lashes lifting to unveil her sky touched gaze, “If you come to Skyhold, if you threaten any member of the Inquisition, the Ghost of Ferelden will come for you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to do this anymore, you told Magdalena you didn’t.” Cullen was lost in her gaze again, just like he was every time she looked up at him. His heart hammered against his chest for a moment, he had been lost to her gaze since the first moment he saw it peering up at him from half-shadows.

Talise nodded in agreement to Cullen’s words, leaning her head against his chest, the cold metal of his armor making her wince, “I don’t.”

“Then why do it?” He wrapped both arms around her, one hand cupping the back of her head, his gloved hand sliding beneath her ponytail.

“Why do you do it?” Talise’s words were muffled against his coat as she spoke, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Cullen chuckled, his mouth curving upwards in a smirk, “Fair point. I don’t want to do this either.”

“Someday, we won’t do this.” There was a painful note of longing in Talise’s words, one she could not hide as she spoke. The longer she was in Skyhold, the longer she was with Cullen, the less she wanted to leave, the heavier the mantle of Ghost became.

“Someday we won’t.” Cullen tightened his arms around Talise, leaning down to press his cheek against the top of her head. The idea of someplace peaceful, somewhere to live without the demands of the Inquisition, or the templars, or some other war, strung a deep chord within him, one he kept carefully hidden away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Demon flapped her wings, snapping her beak at Amelia, who responded by tossing her a small piece of meat. Holding it in her beak, the eagle hopped from her spot on the fence, to the saddle of Talise’s horse, sitting on it as she ripped into the snack. Well-trained, and used to the bird’s antics, Talise’s horse did not move, but waited placidly, deep brown eyes flicking over the small group.

The horse nudged Talise with it’s soft nose, and she responded by rubbing it, whispering a few words to her mount as she started to walk towards the front gates. Sera ran across the courtyard, side-stepping several people, nearly running a soldier down, “Did you really think I was gonna stay here while you go after them big knives?”

Talise grinned at the blonde elf, and motioned to the stables, “Go get a horse, Rylen and his men are meeting us at the gates.”

“So… what’s the plan?” Amelia looked over at Talise, her emeraldine eyes sparkling with excitement as she walked beside Talise, leading her own mount.

“As far as anyone is concerned, a Duchess D’Aboville is requesting the Inquisition help settle a matter for her. Rylen and his men will escort the Duchess back here”, coming to a stop in front of the gates, Talise held out a small scrap for Demon, who took the meat carefully, and then tossed it back in one gulp.

“Are we all officially under Rylen’s command?” Valissia leaned under her horse’s head to peer at Talise, her gray eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Thank the Maker, no. Officially I am taking a small group to escort the Duchess back here. What you three are doing is up to you.” Rylen spoke, his lilting accent thick, light blue eyes crinkling as he grinned at Talise, “But I’ll be outside of Val Royeaux if you need me.”

“And we’re taking Cole and Sara…” Amelia spoke, watching as Sara led a horse from the stable, and Cole slipped from the infirmary, heading towards their small group.

“We are. Sara may have some information for us in the city. And Cole…”

“You can’t save everyone Talise”, the storm mage answered, nodding her small chin towards the half-spirit as he stopped to talk with a woman.

“No, but I can help as many as I can”, Talise answered, not looking towards Amelia. Her bright gaze was not focused on Cole either; but she looked past him, to where Cullen came down from the main hall. For several moments, the assassin said nothing, her summer bright gaze locked onto the commander as he walked towards them.

As always, time seemed to drag out when she saw Cullen, his carefully combed hair glowing golden in the sunlight, his armor bright and shining. He looked very much like the heroes out of the fairytales Talise had heard as a child, and she felt her heard thump painfully against her ribs for a moment. With a snort of laughter, Amelia held out a hand, and without looking Talise handed the reins of her horse to her; stepping around each mount carefully, she made her way to Cullen, meeting him on the edge of the group.

Christopher hugged Valissia to him, whispering to the mage as she leaned into his powerful embrace, while Michel stepped towards Amelia, tugging her to his frame. Cullen cupped Talise’s face in his hands, losing himself in her sky touched gaze, and she curled her fingers around his arms, holding on for as long as she dared. A blush decorated Cullen’s face as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Talise’s forehead, and then hugging her to him, trying to forget the numerous pairs of eyes watching them as he said his goodbyes.

After several moments, Talise slipped from Cullen’s arms, leaving him with one last kiss, and took the reins of her horse back from Amelia. Within moments, everyone was saddled, and the group rode through the main gate. Talise could not fight the impulse to look behind her, and she twisted in her saddle, looking over a black-clad shoulder towards Cullen. Although Amelia and Valissia looked back as well, they looked at each other, sharing a look between them as Talise stared longingly behind her. Cullen, Christopher, and Michel stared at the group as they rode across the bridge, all three wore matching looks of unease.

“I hear Commander, that you are the man to learn chess from”, Magdalena’s voice broke through the cool morning air.

“How do you do it? How do you watch them just leave?” The Herald’s tone was almost accusatory as he looked at the Rivaini.

“They are fulfilling their purpose. To stand in their way, even to protect them, is to keep them from the reason why they are here. In all their travels, in all they have seen and done, they have always survived. Mostly unharmed.” Magdalena answered him with an almost ease as she come to a stop beside the three men standing in front of the gate.

“That does not make it any easier to watch them ride away”, Michel muttered, and Cullen nodded in agreement, raking a gloved hand through his tawny hair.

Magdalena took in the men, all of them accomplished warriors, one a templar, one a chevalier, and burst into laughter, leaning on her staff, a polished length of ebony, decorated with tiny charms. Her small frame nearly folded in on itself as she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief at the scene before her.

“What is so funny?” Christopher muttered darkly, pinning a look of irritation on the Rivaini as she giggled in front of them.

“The… The Herald of Andraste. The Commander of the Inquisition, a chevalier. All brought… to their knees. By my girls”, she continued to laugh, her shoulders shaking as she giggled.

“Yes well…” Michel sighed, looking back across the bridge once more, unable to keep his gaze from it.

“I’m sorry”, Magdalena straightened, wiping tears of mirth from her dark gaze, “But it is humorous. Normally it is the woman who pines for the man as he leaves on adventure. I take delight in seeing them reverse that.”

“You said something about chess…” Cullen took one last look at the bridge, before his golden gaze took in Magdalena as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“I did. I will make you a deal Commander. Teach me how to win at chess, and I will teach you how to beat an Antivan at Wicked Grace”, she grinned impishly up at him in response.

“Maker’s Breath… you heard about that?” Cullen sighed, one gloved hand rubbing at the back of his neck while his stubbled cheeks darkened in embarrassment.

“Talise told me much in her letters.” She nodded in response, as Christopher and Michel laughed, trying in vain to cover their amusement. Word of Cullen’s walk of shame, after being stripped of every article of clothes in a card game with Josephine, still circulated throughout Skyhold.

“I would take that deal, if I were you, Commander.” Christopher fought to keep from grinning at his advisor, and failed miserably, his lips curving into a wide grin.

“Might save your…. Ahem… clothes, next time.” Michel added, mischief dancing in his steely blue gaze.

“Maker preserve me.” Cullen sighed, offering an arm to Magdalena, “There isn’t enough light in the garden, but we can sit in the Herald’s Rest and play.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack!!!  
> I did a mix of the possible options for Josephine's personal quest. And now, a pissed off Talise is aiming for the House of Repose.
> 
> My favorite Antivan assassin makes his first appearance here, I loved him in Origins, and since we don't get to actually see him in game, I wanted him here.

Amelia and Sara quickly discovered they had more in common than they thought, Amelia had an irrepressible streak of mischief; they had shared jokes and giggled during the ride, their humor impossibly to ignore, soon they were playing pranks on everyone they could. Their antics had helped improve Talise’s mood, she had been quiet and withdrawn the first few days of their trip, and had spent most of her free time staring back towards the Frostback mountains. Slowly, her dry sense of humor and sarcastic streak returned, she was trading barbs with Rylen and Valissia soon enough.

Demon caught several ravens every day; the eagle had the disturbing habit of bringing Talise half her kill, leaving it draped over a saddle, or sitting in front of her tent. But with the mess and gore, there was always a message, and Talise spent much of her time reading the scraps of paper Demon brought her. She was reading a message now, fluidly moving with her horse, barely keeping one hand on the reins as Demon sat on the pommel, holding another dead raven in her sharp beak.

“That is how you know everything. You’ve taught Demon to hunt ravens”, Knight-Captain Rylen watched Talise as she worked, admiration in his bright blue gaze. Traveling with Talise, Rylen had been given an opportunity to watch the Ghost of Ferelden, one of the most famous assassins in all of Theda’s. He had learned so much already, and he was eager to teach his soldiers, to better train them when they got back from Skyhold.

Talise looked over the top of the parchment she was reading at Rylen, “I had no intention of it when I rescued her, but she kept killing birds. I just decided to take advantage of it.”

Rylen nodded, watching as Demon dropped her kill, and then lifted off into the air. The bird was so intelligent it made his soldiers nervous, and he understood why. A wingspan longer than Talise was tall, talons that could carve through leather gloves with ease, and a beak that could snap a finger off; Demon was a formidable opponent, and she seemed to understand every word spoken to her or in front of her.

His attention was called away by his men, and Rylen rode ahead to them, his place taken by Amelia, who watched him retreat through emeraldine eyes, “You know… we need to get Rylan a woman. He works too hard.”

“Don’t look at me, he’s got the wrong equipment”, Sara giggled from where she sat astride her horse, shaking her head no at Amelia’s words.

“He is handsome. And that accent”, Valissia grinned, looking towards the Knight-Captain, before she held out a scrap of parchment to Talise, “Here, the Venatori have changed their code again, I think I’ve solved it.”

“He sounds like Sebastian. Without the pious Andrastian attitude”, Talise fought back a smile, taking the parchment from Valissia. Both pieces of paper she tucked into a pocket on the pack she brought with her, twisting in the saddle to reach it.

“Oh Maker. Sebastian was so handsome though”, Amelia sighed at the memory, while fanning herself with one of her hands.

“This that Prince of Starkhaven fellow?” Sara asked, snorting at Amelia’s actions.

“The one and the same. He spent some time in Kirkwall.” Valissia nodded, tucking a strand of shining auburn hair back up into her braid, balancing perfectly in the saddle as she did so.

“Talise was right, he was very pious. Disapproved of everything Hawke did.” Amelia dropped her hand, her gaze going back to Rylen once more, “In all seriousness, Rylen needs someone. Do you think he prefers men? Is that why we haven’t seen him flirt with anyone?”

Sara collapsed into peals of laughter, hanging on tightly to her saddle, and Valissia sighed, dropping her freckled forehead into her palm, “Maker take me now. Is this how it’s going to be all the way there?”

Talise’s sharp gaze did not miss the way Rylen moved, almost looking back over his muscled shoulder, and she grinned, realizing the Knight-Captain had probably heard them all behind him, “Sebastian disapproved of everything everyone did, unless it was to pray to the Maker in the chantry. Judging from what I’ve heard lately, that hasn’t changed.”

“I cannot believe he thought to annex Kirkwall”, Valissia’s shook her head in disbelief, leaning back as Demon, finished with her raven, lifted herself into the air enough to land on her saddle, abandoning Talise, “Oh, I see. You’ve made a mess over there, so now you’re here.”

“He’s either power hungry or more devout than we thought”. Talise tugged out a rag from one of her packs, and used it to clean up the mess Demon had left on her saddle, “And at least she’s quit harassing the Inquisition ravens. Leliana will appreciate that.”

“A dangerous combination”, Valissia nodded, leaning far enough over to take the rag from Talise, wiping off the eagle’s beak, “Hold still Demon. You’re not sitting over here with me while you’re dripping blood everywhere.”

With an indignant sounding screech, Demon lifted into the air, the horses they rode snorting in irritation. It took just a few moments before the large eagle was just a small dot in the sky, wheeling in lazy circles overhead. Talise followed the bird’s movements, lifting her fingers to her lips and blowing a sharp whistle, which was answered by another screech, “Oh, you’ve really made her mad, she won’t come down now.”

“If she learns better table manners she can sit with me”, Valissia grumbled the complaint, but she was grinning as she looked up into the sky. Talise’s eagle had bonded with both the spirit mage and Amelia, often seeking them out.

“This Sebastian fellow sounds like a real prick”, Sera added, looking up from her arrows.

“He could be. But a man like that you don’t like for his personality”, Amelia wiggled her eyebrows at Sara, earning her another peal of laughter from blonde elf, “And I thought we were talking about Captain Rylen anyways.”

Once done with his soldiers, Rylen did not turn his horse around, but had let it slow until he was edging closer to the women riding behind him. The ease with which they went from subject to subject astonished him, the spoke of politics, intrigue, and the best strategies for defeating an enemy; but also about who made the best silk small-clothes, ways to do their hair, and of course, that Orlesian trick. He had been astonished to hear them giggling about it around the campfire at night, especially when Talise said she had tried it on Cullen. The Knight-Captain was certain he would never be able to face his commander without grinning, hearing Talise describe Cullen’s reaction.

He had heard his name, and then heard them giggling, and as his horse slowed, he heard Amelia mention him once more, curiously asking if he preferred men to women. At this question he nearly lost his composure, but they slipped into talking about Sebastian Vael with the ease of someone who knew him well. When Amelia mentioned his name once more, Rylen realized his horse was just ahead of the giggling mage, and he slowed it, until he could turn in the saddle and look at Amelia, “Just because I don’t have a wench hanging off each arm like Iron Bull, does not mean I prefer the company of men.”

Talise had watched Rylen edge back towards them, and wearing a wicked smirk, had said nothing to alert Amelia to his presence. Instead she had continued to talk, answering questions and cracking jokes of her own, as she tucked away the parchment she was decoding. Now, with Rylen even with Amelia, and his words hanging in the air, the assassin choked back a laugh, biting her lip to keep her laughter in. Valissia and Sara both snorted, the spirit mage covered her laugh with a cough while the elven rogue guffawed out loud.

When Rylen spoke, Amelia turned a deep pink, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. She stuttered a response for a moment, turning darker as Valissia and Sara giggled, “I… I meant to say…”

“And while I don’t show just anyone, I know the Orlesian trick you were giggling about last night”, The Knight-Captain continued, his light blue eyes sparkling with humor as he watched Amelia darken in a blush further. Before the storm mage could summon a retort, one of the soldiers called for Rylen from further head, and he tipped his hat to the blushing mage, “If you ever tire of the Orlesian, I’ll be more than happy to show you how we do it in Starkhaven.”

Rylen cantered off, leaving Amelia sitting atop her horse, lush lips parted in shock, her cheeks nearly on fire. Sara and Valissia giggled, and Talise hid her laughter behind her gloved hand. Sara was bent over the saddle, holding her sides as she laughed, “You should see your face Amelia. You’re as red as my shirt.”

“It’s what you deserve, you should have known he could hear you”, Talise managed to get the words out before she too started to laugh.

“I cannot believe he flirted with you!! You have Michel’s attention and Rylen just said he would…. Would…” Valissia stumbled over the last words, laughing even as her cheeks heated in a blush.

“Do the Orlesian trick on her”, Sara laughed harder, holding one of her hands out, “Stop making me laugh, my stomach hurts!!”

Some impish part of Talise, set free even while she planned an assault on a house of assassins, reigned supreme, and she looked over at Amelia, lifting an eyebrow, “So…. If you had to choose. Rylen or Michel?”

Amelia had spent several minutes with her face buried in her hands, her cheeks hot against her fingers. While her friends giggled around her, their laughter at odds with the seriousness of their mission, Amelia had hoped the earth would swallow her whole. Rylen catching her talking about him was embarrassing enough, but he had flirted with her as well. At Talise’s question, she dropped her hands, forgetting about her embarrassment. For a moment she eyed Rylen riding ahead, directing several soldiers as they searched for a place to camp for the night. While not as tall as Cullen, he could command attention, the storm mage remembered the morning she had seen Rylen after sparring with his soldiers, shirtless, muscles bulging, skin shining with sweat. A sudden dark impulse seized control of her, and her eyes gleamed with it, “Why not both??”

The shocked laughter of her friends echoed around them, Sara’s whoops of laughter carrying over to where the soldiers rode with Rylen. Several pairs of eyes turned back towards the women, all shocked to see Talise acting less like an assassin, and more like an ordinary woman. Amelia’s cheeks were still flushed a deep rose, but she kept her back straight, while Sara clung to her horse, tears rolling down the elf’s face as she giggled. Valissia managed to cover her laughter with a gloved hand, and Talise laughed openly.

One of the soldier’s sighed, “It’s going to be a long ride to Val Royeaux.”

“Give them a moment or two to be normal. They’ve got a plan, there’s nothing to do but enjoy themselves”, Rylen countered, watching the women giggle and laugh at each other, Sara cracked a joke he could not quite catch, sending the other three into another round of laughter.

“I don’t understand” Cole’s pale eyes jumped from the giggling women behind them to Rylen and then back again, confusion evident on his features.

“I can’t claim to understand women at all. The greatest minds in Thedas have never figured them out”, Rylen responded, nodding as a scout pointed to an open meadow off the road, but hidden on one side by a stand of trees, “That’s as good a place as any to camp for the night.”

 

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A handful of days, not even a week, had passed since Talise had left. Cullen had woken up to aching joints, and hands that hurt so badly he could barely curl them into fists. Christopher and several of the other companions had left to finish up some Inquisition business in Crestwood, and the Commander had found himself with little to do.

By late afternoon he stood on the ramparts, staring at the snow-capped mountains around him. The air was sharp, the promise of a frost hung in it, as his honeyed gaze traced over the mountains. His plans for his quarters were taking shape, but the hammering and working from the dwarves was driving him to distraction, and he found himself often working in either the war room or in Josephine’s office, tuning out the parade of ambassadors and dignitaries. Or trying to.

“Here, drink this”, Magdalena held a cup out to him, a steaming mug of some sort of spiced tea. She had made it for him the first night, while they played chess at the tavern. Now they had some strange sort of ritual, tea and worrying over Talise, “I brought you something Commander, you should read it.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow in question at her over the brim of the mug, taking a small sip of it, “Oh?”

“It should explain things. Well, I’m sure it will lead to more questions, but you should know how deep this thing between you and Talise goes.”

“Now I need to see it.”

The Rivaini seer chuckled, making her way to the doors to his quarters. Once they were inside, candles lit and a small fire filling his office with light, Magdalena reached into a pocket of her robes, and withdrew an envelope. The paper was dark with age, the flap half torn off, revealing the parchment letter underneath. Cullen took it, carefully tugging the letter out, judging from the look of the letter and envelope, they were both old, and considering the Rivaini seer had brought this to him, important.

_My Sister,_

_Talise is worrying me._

_She has been waking up at night, coming to me and talking of a lion. She says in her dreams she plays with a lion, that it follows her around. How old are children when they show signs of magic? Is she destined to be a mage?_

_I am petrified. Hale pretends to not be bothered by it, but you should see the look on his face when Talise describes this lion from her dreams. The detail Magdalena, she knows how many spots on are its face. She can describe the feel of its whiskers; how sharp its claws are._

_Is it a demon, following her? Is it a spirit?_

_I nearly lost her, she came early, and she should have died. And now, is some monster stalking my baby from the fade?_

_Please come to Nightreach, as fast as you can. I need you._

_Love,_

_Catherine_

Cullen read the letter several times, tawny brows drawn together in confusion, his amber gaze dark, “I don’t understand. Was she manifesting magic? How old was she?”

“The dreams started just after her third birthday. No, she has never shown even a hint of magical ability. But let me tell you, I knew she was seeing the lion in her dreams before my sister’s letter reached me. I was seeing the same thing.” Magdalena cupped her hands around her own mug of tea, cradling the warm ceramic in her palm.

“You were?” Cullen’s gaze widened as he looked at the Rivaini seer.

Magdalena carried her cup of tea to the small table tucked into a corner of Cullen’s quarters, and eased into a chair, pushing aside a stack of reports gently, “Cullen, I saw the lion before Talise was even born. I had come to Nightreach when Catherine wrote me she was pregnant a second time. She had a hard pregnancy with Talise, she was sick all the time, the baby came early, and then she was not in the right position for delivery. It took everything we had to get Talise to turn, and then she was so small we feared she would not survive.”

Cullen nodded, following the Rivaini to the round table, and taking the seat opposite her, sighing as he eased into the chair.

“I had no idea what the lion meant, just that it was important. The spirits were trying to tell Talise something, and they were trying to tell me something.” Magdalena stirred her tea cup, watching the tea leaves in the bottom of it swirling.

Automatically, Cullen’s gaze slid to the nearby armor stand, where his helmet hung. The lion-headed helmet. He had polished his armor this morning, ignoring several teasing remarks from Varric, and the helmet gleamed in the candlelight, golden light bouncing off the polished metal, the black and red mane behind it freshly combed, “Are you saying….”

Magdalena nodded at him, following his gaze, “When Talise wrote me and said she had met someone, and that he wore such a helmet, I knew. It struck me like a lightning bolt. I sat holding her letter, knowing you were someone important in her life.”

“I am not…”

“If your sentence is going to be that you are not important, then do not finish it. You know why she came to Skyhold, yes?”

Cullen answered with a small nod, unable to meet Magdalena’s sharp, dark brown gaze.

“She came expecting to be put to death. She believes that Jordan came here to keep her secrets safe, and that her secrets are what caused his death.”

“He wouldn’t tell Alistair.”

“No, he wouldn’t. But that is not why he came. My nephew came because Alistair sent him, asked him to come. Alistair knew he himself could not come, and so he wanted someone he could trust. Who better than the captain of his personal guard? Hale Montgomery’s son? Bann Jordan Montgomery?”

Whatever was in the tea was working, the stiffness was easing from Cullen’s joints, and he stretched his legs out in front of him, “I assumed the same. But… Talise…”

“Is suffering. I love my niece, but I am not a replacement for the family she has lost.”

“I cannot be either.”

“That is a smart answer Cullen. No, you will not replace the family she has lost. But you and her, together, can build something new, something to heal both your wounds. Whatever she saw that morning she stood for this… judgment you call it? whatever she saw in you, kept her alive.”

“I didn’t think she was deserving of death.”

“She is not. Death is her weapon. But she is a force for good. As I said the morning those Orlesians”, Magdalena somehow made the word sound like an insult, “were here, Talise is the fulcrum, upon which balance is achieved. She has been tilting that balance back towards the good, the weak, the vulnerable, since she became the Ghost.”

“What do I do?”

“Be her shield. Take the blows she cannot take. Let her fight from the shadows for you. All your armor, all your skills, and you are still vulnerable to an attack from behind. Let her fight from behind you.”

“Somethings are foretold. Some lives are entwined through the ages. It is not always romantic love, Talise was meant to be with Valissia and Amelia, as they are now. Commander, you struggle with things, believe that you have fallen from the Maker’s grace. That is not true.”

His honeyed gaze flicks to hers for a moment, but he is unable to withstand the onslaught of understanding in her dark gaze. As understanding as Talise was, but with a wisdom, a deep sense of knowledge, granted by the spirits, by her age.

“As you were, you could not have loved her. You needed to know pain, to know suffering, before she came into your life. You did not fall from grace Commander, you fell towards her.”

“That first night…” he paused, the memories swamping him, and took a sip of tea reflexively, letting the warmth and spices sooth his nerves as well as his body, “I felt as though a piece… of something, had fallen into place.”

“The first letter she wrote me, after getting here, she spoke of you, as if she had been writing about you for years. It wasn’t an explanation of who you were, or what you looked like, she simply said she couldn’t beat you at chess.”

He laughed then, setting the mug of tea down and sitting up long enough to tug his surcoat off, “She can, she just has to work to do it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they made it to Val Royeaux, and the safety of an agent’s house, there was much information to send back to Leliana. The House of Repose knew that the attack on Josephine had failed, and was anticipating a response, Talise had been seen leaving Skyhold, and several nobles were now openly supporting Gaspard in his claims against Celene. The most troubling was that a small group of assassins had left Val Royeaux, but Talise had been unable to find out where they were heading.

Rylen and the soldiers he had brought from Skyhold stopped at the Comtesse’s estate on the outskirts of Val Royeaux, ostensibly to wait for the Comtesse to be ready to travel; but also giving Talise time to find the vaults she needed to break into. The Knight-Captain was staggered by Talise, at once a calm, well-read woman, and at the same time a cold-blooded assassin, capable of just about anything. The lengths she was going to now shocked him, but at the same time, he had watched the romance bloom between Cullen and Talise; were someone that close to him threatened, he would have no hesitation responding with the same level of violence Talise was.

Talise, Amelia, Valissia, Sera and Cole made their way into the city, slipping in as evening fell, and were welcomed into the agent’s home. A silk and fine fabric merchant from Antiva, he had emptied his house of any guests, and had just a few trustworthy servants waiting for them. Talise was more than grateful for the cover of the house, and the light meal the merchant insisted on leaving out for them. He had retired to his quarters, saying that the less he knew the less could be asked of him, leaving the lower part of the house free for them.

“When has Celene planned that masquerade?” Amelia asked as she tugged her boots off, sighing gratefully.

“I’m not sure. But we need to make a move soon”, Talise answered, moving to the door and pressing an ear against it. Sera watched Talise, drawing an arrow from her bow, as a small knock sounded on the door. Slowly the assassin edged the door open, her dagger hissing as she tugged it from it’s harness on her back.

“Ahhhh… my water lily. It has been too long” a familiar voice, with a lilting Antivan accent whispered the words to Talise, and a blonde-haired elf slipped into the room.

“Is that who I think it is?”, Amelia grinned at the assassin, her question answered when he peeked around the edge of the door at her.

“I got word from Skyhold that the House of Repose had tried to kill the Ambassador. I knew Talise would respond to such a personal insult.” In the years since Zevran Arainai had traveled with the Hero of Ferelden, his tan skin had started to give away his age, tiny wrinkles had formed around his sparkling, gaze.

“Insult?” Sera blinked, looking towards Talise.

Zevran continued to talk as he slipped into the room, stretching over a small table to check out a window, “They sent assassins into Talise’s home, to try and kill someone under her nose. Not even the Antivan Crows would try such a thing.”

“Hey, it’s my house too. I had to fight one of those assholes off in the tavern”, Sera complained, even as she tucked her arrow back into her quiver.

Before Talise or Zevran could answer, Amelia frowned, looking over at Valissia, who had turned as red as a ripe tomato, the color clashing with her hair, “Valissia… why are you blushing?”

“My Ferelden rose… it has been too long. Will you have time for dinner then?”, Zevran nearly purred the words out to the spirit mage, a wicked grin lifting the corner of his mischievous mouth.

“Uhhh... no. I mean…” Valissia had been in the act of combing her hair out when Zevran appeared, and she practically hid behind a curtain of bright auburn hair.

“I’m not sure the Herald would take kindly to that idea”, Sera grinned, watching as Valissia flushed further, bouncing to a nearby couch and tossing herself on it casually.

“The rumors are true then?” Zevran leaned against the table in front of the window, tugging off his black cloak as he spoke.

From behind her long, gleaming red hair, Valissia managed to meet Zevran’s warm gaze. She flushed once more, her cheeks reddening until her freckles stood out, “Yes well… I didn’t plan on it happening.”

“We swore no oaths of fidelity Valissia. I will miss your companionship though.” Casually the Antivan elf waved away Valissia’s concern, folding his cloak and setting it beside him.

“Thank you, for not making it difficult.”

“Of course, my rose”, Zevran’s golden gaze swung to Amelia, and he lifted a brow in question, “Amelia, are you still searching for someone to help you…. lose something?”

“You are not propositioning me after…” Amelia blushed in response, her face almost as fiery as Valissia’s.

“Well, I would need you and Talise, and then I would have the matched set.” Zevran grinned wickedly, leering in a playful way at Amelia.

“Oh no. No. Leave me out of whatever escapades you have planned Zevran.” Talise shook her head vigorously, fighting back laughter, “Later, when we have a plan, I will need some sort of explanation, Valissia.”

“A lady does not kiss and tell”, Valissia retorted, busying herself with a stack of the correspondence Talise had gathered on the way.

“You’re not a lady my rose. Certainly not in bed.” Zevran grinned again, moving to lean against the arm of the couch Sera was stretched out on, “Zevran Arainai.”

“The Zevran???”, Sera sat bolt upright, blinking in outright shock, her gaze darting from Zevran to Talise, “You know him??”

“Well, I don’t know him as well as Valissia does, it appears”, looking up from her pack, where she is digging out several small bottles of poison, Talise smirked at Valissia, “But we’ve worked together before.”

“I take it my reputation has preceded me”.

“Yeah, your reputation of being stymied by every lock in Thedas”, Talise’s summer bright gaze sparkled with mischievousness as she spoke, picking up one of the bottles of poison and shaking it several times, until the contents have swirled together once more.

“My water lily, I came here to help, not have you insult my skills”, Zevran’s outrage was all fake pretense, he was grinning fondly at Talise, “Were you planning on doing any surveillance this evening?”

“I was. You want to come along?”, Talise spoke the words from around a dagger, she held the hilt in her teeth as she carefully uncorked a bottle.

“Of course. I came to help in any way my water lily”

“I want to help” Cole appeared out of thin air, and even Talise jumped when he spoke.

“You can come with us or stay here and watch for anyone”, carefully Talise took the dagger from her mouth, and sprinkled tiny droplets of the shimmering, green poison over the blade.

“I can stay here. I won’t be seen, and they won’t remember me.” Cole moved to the doors, peering out, and then simply vanished from view, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

Zevran’s eyes widened as he took in the obviously not quite human Cole, “My water lily, you have the strangest friends.”

It took just a few minutes for Talise to come up with a plan. Amelia and Valissia were going to stay behind, watching the house, along with Sera, who was waiting for a Red Jenny informant. Cole was going to watch for any patrols, and write down when he saw them, from the safety of the front window. That left her and Zevran to watch the headquarters of the Orlesian assassins, and they talked about the best vantage points as they slipped into the shadows, making their way through a night darkened Val Royeaux. Demon, sitting atop a pile of blankets, barely cracked one eye open as Talise made her plans, clearly the loyal and fierce eagle was content to sleep for a few hours.

The House of Repose kept its headquarters by the port, instead of in the heart of the city. Across from the large building where the vaults were hidden, perched atop a brothel, sat Talise and Zevran, legs dangling over the edge of the roof. While they were finding a place to watch and study the assassins from, Talise had explained, as best as she could, Cole to Zevran, who was torn between being fascinated and a healthy dose of fear.

“If you trust him Talise, so do I. But you cannot save everyone my water lily, you know that”, Zevran murmured, his sharp gaze taking in a pair of guards as they walked down the street beneath them, “Armed guards, in rather fancy clothes if you ask me. Even for Orlais. Over there.”

“Those are probably from the House of Repose then.” Talise nods, looking over the edge of the dagger she was sharpening, her summer bright gaze locked onto the guards.

“If they’re like the Antivan Crows, the younger, less trained one are put on guard duty, especially if higher ranking members are working” As he spoke, Zevran leaned against Talise with an ease that hinted at the long years of friendship between the two of them.

Talise shifted, leaning in turn against the black leather pack she had brought, letting it hold her as the Antivan crow lounged against her side, “Zevran… before I forget. I had an idea.”

“You’ve finally decided to run away with me?” one leg dangled off the edge of the roof, the other Zevran propped up, resting a gloved hand on his knee. He looked seemingly like he was relaxed and enjoying his time, but his bright gaze, shifting between a molten gold and a light green, was intense as he studied the people walking on the street in front of them.

Talise snorted, rolling her bright gaze heavenward, even while she shifted further, until Zevran was leaning on one of her leather-clad thighs, and her hand, still holding a dagger, was resting on his armored chest.  “You’ve set about ruining House Arainai. Are you going to take it over and rebuild it?”

“No. I have no wish to return to the Crows.” As he spoke, Zevran took the dagger from her, inspecting it carefully, and then held out his other hand, “Give me the whetstone water lily.”

“But you’ll need something to do.” Without taking her gaze from the guards across the street, Talise slipped the small whetstone into Zevran’s palm.

Holding the stone carefully, Zevran ran the blade down it slowly, “And somewhere to hide, yes.”

“Alistair needs a new spymaster.” As she spoke, Talise’s gaze flicked from watching the Orlesian assassins to Zevran, and then back to her surveillance. Although she had been friends with Amelia and Valissia all her life; Talise held a special place in her heart for Zevran, they thought alike, and even favored the same fighting style.

Zevran lifted a golden eyebrow at Talise, chuckling in disbelief, “And you think the King of Ferelden would be so quick so ask for my help?”

“No. He won’t. But he needs a good spymaster. He inherited the one he had from Cailan.”

“Was that the one serving when you broke in to the keep?” Zevran held the whetstone back out to Talise, his golden gaze swinging back to the assassins guarding the building across from them.

“Yes. He was quickly dismissed. Since then, he has gone through several people, but no one is qualified for the job. Or good at it.” Talise took the whetstone, and tucked it within the pack she was leaning on.

“And you think I am?” Zevran’s gaze narrowed on a patrol walking by, “That’s the third one since we’ve been here.”

“Zevran, you know more people than I do. I can’t be there to watch Alistair’s back anymore, and with Jordan gone…”

“I am sorry for your loss Talise, I know you loved your brother”, Zevran moved, sitting up and kicking both legs over the edge of the roof. One lithe arm was wound across Talise’s shoulders, “I’m sorry I was not there when you received the news about your brother. And I know that Alistair needs a good spymaster, he had Venatori agents in his kitchens.”

Talise took the opportunity to stretch, and then leaned into the Antivan assassin, propping her head on his shoulder, “Think about it…. A home, fancy clothes, all the wine you could want. And all those lovely maidens at court.”

Zevran grinned wickedly, even as his eyes continually tracked over the people passing in front of the warehouse, “Ahhh... it would be fun have that many skirts to chase.”

“Exactly. And no one, not even the Crows, would dare come after you in Denerim.” While she talked, Talise lifted her chin, motioning towards a patrol of city guards.

“Even better, every time you come to Denerim, I’ll get to see the most beautiful woman in all Thedas”, his molten gold gaze followed the direction Talise had gestured to with her small chin while he spoke, and he nodded in response.

Talise leaned comfortably back into Zevran, her pose casual, “Don’t you mean Valissia?”

“Why not both?”, a grin lifted the corners of his mouth, as he looked down at Talise, stretching a muscled arm to his side to prop himself up on.

With a snort, Talise rolled her eyes, “Because I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Who said anything about sleep?” Zevran wiggled his eyebrows at her, before resuming his surveillance.

Talise snorted then, fighting back a laugh, and dropped her head back to Zevran’s shoulder, “Andraste’s flaming knickers… you haven’t changed a bit.

The Antivan nodded in agreement. He watched her for several moments, his demeaner changing from jovial to serious. One hand reached for the end of Talise’s ponytail, curling the ends of her dark hair around his fingers as he spoke, “Do you love him?”

“Against my better judgment, I do. With all my heart.” She nodded, her head moving slightly against his armor-clad shoulder.

“What does judgment have to do with it?”

“Zevran, look at me. I’m an assassin. He’s… was, a templar. He’s everything that is right in this world. I kill people for a living. And my father was a mercenary.” Talise gestured to herself, pointing at her blackened leather armor, the pack of tools on her side, the dagger she had set down beside it.

Zevran heaved a sigh, this was familiar territory for them; Talise suffered from a self-doubt that was nearly crippling, and it had often fallen to the Antivan to talk her out of it. His fingers continued to toy with the silken ends of her ponytail as he spoke, “No my gorgeous friend, you’re looking at this wrong. You are strong, and smart and talented. Soon you’ll be nobility. Your father died with honor trying to fight back a Blight. Cullen has much to live up to.”

“That’s… not how I was looking at things.” She heaved a sigh, reaching for the dagger and picking it back up, studying it critically through her summer bright gaze.

“This is why you need me around, to offer a differ perspective”, Zevran grinned, and then blinked with a flash of realization, “This is why you are trying to make me spymaster for Alistair?”

“It’s for purely selfish reasons. Because I like having you closer than Antiva.” A grin betrayed Talise’s motives, curling her lush lips upwards, while her gaze tracked anyone going up and down in the street below them.

“Fine. If Alistair offers it, I will take the post. But only to watch this romance between you and Cullen. Has he finally learned how to talk to women then?” Zevran somehow managed to make it sound like he was doing his friend a favor, but he could see the logic in Talise’s words.

Talise grinned, nodding at Zevran, “And he plays chess.”

“Ahhhh... the fatal weakness. The Ghost of Ferelden prefers men who play chess.” The Crow smirked at her, stretching his arms high above his head.

For an answer, Talise giggled, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

“If this is what you want”, When she looked over at him, he cupped her cheeks tenderly in his gloved hands, and pressed his forehead to hers, “Then I am happy for you. You deserve to be happy my water lily. I don’t have many friends, but you’ve always been mine.”

“You’ve always been mine. And you deserve the same”, Talise leaned into him, pressing her forehead lightly against his. She had relaxed more since getting to Val Royeaux, than she had believed she would be able. Although she was focused on the mission, the tense, uncertain feeling that had plagued her since leaving Skyhold was gone. Sitting with Zevran, watching other assassins and talking of everything and nothing, was a balm to her soul.

“I am happiest chasing young women and taking their innocence from them”, still leaning his forehead against Talise’s, Zevran wiggled his eyebrows lecherously.

“Oh Maker… You’re hopeless Zevran.” She snorted, half-heartedly shoving at his shoulder in response.

Leaning back, Zevran tucked a strand of chocolate dark hair behind Talise’s ear, and then pushed himself to his feet, balancing easily on the edge of the roof where they sat, “Come on my water lily, we have the patrols, let us see if we can find an easy way into the vaults, and then get some rest.”

By the time they reached the front doors of the brothel, they were focused and quiet once more. Zevran’s crow hood was drawn over his face, and Talise had pulled her scarf up over her cheekbones. Silently they prowled the darkened streets around the headquarters of the House of Repose, making note of each window, each door, each way into the building. A plan started to coalesce as they worked, and by the time they slipped into the silk merchant’s house, they were certain of what they would do next.

Amelia, Valissia and Sera were asleep in the same wide bed. They had discovered the merchant’s books, including several forbidden by the Chantry, and had fallen asleep reading them and eating chocolate. Cole was curled up in a small bed, the covers pulled almost over him. Demon cracked an eye as they slipped in, and then immediately went back to sleep. Zevran chose a couch close to the front door, the better to keep an eye on things, and Talise took the bedroom closest to the same door, although once her armor was off, she headed to the kitchen.

Talise sat at the wide table, a stack of fresh parchment in front of her, several quills and a bottle of ink within reach of her fingers. She had several reports to send back to Skyhold, one to send to Rylen with the morning’s plans. She had work to do, her daggers needed a final check, she needed to make sure she had enough poisons, enough rope, enough gear. But instead, she was writing something else. Her dark head was bowed over the parchment as she wrote Cullen, pouring herself into each elegantly written word.

_Cullen,_

_We’re here._

_I don’t like that we’re here. I don’t like that you’re not here. I don’t like any of this._

_I spent years wandering, content in living on the road, on visiting home and then leaving again. I was convinced I did not need anyone, that I was happy on my own._

_You changed all of that._

_I need you. I could write a thousand descriptive ways that I need you, and they would all fail me. The depths of my need utterly surpasses my command of any language._

_And that is why I had to do this. I am surprised that there is not already a contract on you, as Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. For the Inquisition I must get the contract on Josephine. But for me, I must make sure there is no contract on you._

_Do you know that when you fight, you don’t always check behind you? You are so focused on the fight ahead of you, that you don’t look over your shoulder. I saw it the first time we sparred. You are so focused on moving forward, that you do not stop to see what may be coming from the shadows behind you._

_So, I am here, looking into the shadows you do not see._

_The sunrise has not been the same since you, each one is warmer, brighter, better. I need more of them._

_Te Amo,_

_Talise_

Carefully she tucked her letter into an envelope. For a moment her sky-touched gaze darted to the small stamp and nub of wax sitting beside her. Thin fingers reached for it, only to draw up short, and she stares at it once more, unsure how to proceed.

A soft step, then another, reaches her ears, and Talise looked up, blinking as her summer bright gaze collides with Amelia’s emeraldine one. The storm mage eased onto the bench beside her, covering a yawn with the back of her hand before she spoke, “Did you just get in?”

“No. We’ve been back for a bit. I’m just… writing.” Talise motioned to the letter.

“Use the House Montgomery seal”, Amelia nods towards the stamp that Talise had reached for, taking it from the assassin with gentle fingers, turning it over in her hand and studying it, “This is new.”

“I had it made after I got to Skyhold”, Talise kept her gaze on the table, at the stick of deep blue wax sitting beside a bottle of ink.

“You’re doing the right thing, taking Jordan’s title. It’s what he would have wanted”, Amelia picked up Talise’s letter, a smile lifting her lips, “That is very fitting.”

“What is?” Talise reached for the wax, holding it above a flicking candle until it started to melt.

“The first letter you are sealing as future Bann, is going to the future Lord Rutherford”, Amelia held the letter out. As she always had, she backed Talise’s decisions, just as Talise backed hers, and over the top of a candle, the light dancing in her emeraldine gaze, she watched Talise seal the letter with that deep blue wax.

“We are not yet ready to talk marriage”, Talise kept her gaze focused on the letter, letting the wax cool for a moment before she pushed the stamp into it, holding it still for several moments. When she lifted the stamp, there sat an elegant scripted letter M, crossed by a set of daggers.

Amelia leaned over Talise’s shoulder, her emeraldine gaze taking in the seal, and she grinned broadly, “That is perfect for you. And yes, yes you are. You and Cullen will get married, and have beautiful babies and live happily ever after.”

“Just like in the fairy tales”, Valissia’s voice was thick with sleep as she padded on bare feet across the floor, looking at envelope, “Good. You’re making it official.”

“As official as I can. Alistair still has to agree to this.” Talise sighed, her gaze locked on the wax seal, “I don’t want to be noble, every noble I have ever known is spoiled and self-centered.”

“Then be different”, Valissia stepped behind Talise, resting one of her small hands on the assassin’s shoulder, “Be the voice in the landsmeet the commoners need. You have an opportunity to affect real change in Denerim. Take it.”

“I won’t be able to be Ghost anymore”, Talise spun the wax stamp between her fingers as she spoke, leaning back against Valissia.

“No, you’ll be Lady Rutherford. Amelia is right, you’re going to end up married with babies. And mabari, lots of mabari, like a proper Fereldan noble”, Valissia lifts her hand from Talise’s shoulder, and runs it through the dark strands of Talise’s hair with an affectionate touch.

“Did you see Cullen when those Fereldan nobles come through with their mabari? He spent more time playing fetch with the dogs than he did talking to anyone”, Amelia grins, leaning against Talise’s side and burying a yawn in the assassin’s shoulder.

“You know, we can probably have one of the last litter from Nightreach sent down”, Valissia yawned, not bothering to hide it, her stormy gaze hidden behind her lashes, “One of us just needs to write Patrick and ask for one.”

“He told me the last litter was huge and he was looking for people to give them to”, A smile curled Amelia’s lips at the mention of her older brother. She pushed herself up from the bench, yawning again, “I’m going back to bed.”

“Me too”, Valissia tucked a few strands of hair out of Talise’s face, tucking them carefully behind a shell-like ear, “Don’t stay up too late little love.”

“I won’t.”

Once her friends had retreated, Talise studied the wax seal intently, her summer bright gaze focused on it. The simple design had come to mean so much more, it meant that Talise was ready to step out of the shadows, to take her brother’s place as Bann, to lead the motley, but fiercely assortment of people that made up Nightreach. It meant that at some point, Ghost would be gone, and she would simply be Talise.

For a moment, in the darkened kitchen of an Inquisition agent, Talise let herself hope. It was easier, in the safety of Cullen’s arms, he made her believe, to dream. Now, with letters and reports to write, she thought of her home, of small feet running down the hallways, of blonde curls and blue eyes on small little faces. Her heart lurched within her chest, and she sighed, wanting something she had never even thought of before, and she wanted it desperately with Cullen.

Remembering the words Magdalena had told her, that she was going to have to be willing to wage a long and bloody campaign to get to peace, Talise went back to her letters. She wrote a report to Leliana, and a shorter one to Rylen, letting him know of their plans for the next day. Without realizing it, one hand, long used to handling daggers and poisons, had crept up her leg, until it was pressed low on her stomach as she wrote. Even as she focused on her work, on the mission she was intent on seeing through to the end, her deepest hopes were coming to the surface.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are in Val Royeaux.  
> One of my biggest complaints with the game is losing NPCs. I've sided with the mages nearly every time, but I cry a little for losing Delrin. So I took the liberty of fixing that. 
> 
> One more chapter apart, and then Talise and Cullen will be back together. Which means some smut ;)

 Amelia, Zevran, and Talise stood in the vault of the House of Repose. The room was filled with contracts, each one tucked into a cubby, and labeled. All three had mostly ignored the stockpile of weapons, although Zevran had gazed longingly at a set of daggers, and Amelia had reached out for an intricately carved staff. Talise had been single-minded in her pursuit of Josephine's contract and had spared little thought for anything as she made her way towards the vaults.

The fight they had expected had not materialized. The younger assassins, when confronted with Talise and Zevran, had put up a token resistance; a few had even fled, leaving Zevran in tears from laughing so hard. When more experienced members of the Orlesian group had tried to fight back, Talise had slit the throat of one of their member, and while standing in a pool of dark crimson blood, promised the same treatment to anyone who stood in her way. Even the head of the House of Repose had backed down, once he found himself on the sharpened end of a poisoned dagger.

Inquisition agents were guarding each entrance, speaking in hushed tones of how fast Talise had gained entry, and how quickly she had gotten control of the building. Where before the dark-haired assassin would spare those she could, Talise had no compunction this evening in taking a life. She was sending a message as much as she was completing a mission, there was no hiding for anyone in the path of the Ghost of Ferelden, there was capitulation, or there was death.

“I had no idea she owed this much money to this many creditors”, Amelia whispered the words, holding a contract out. Zevran leaned over her shoulder, both of his hands full of contracts as well, his molten gaze reading the words quickly.

“You should keep that my water lily, that could easily turn into a favor she owes you”, The Antivan held out several more contracts, “All of these are worth something as well.”

"Thank you Zevran", Talise looked up from her spot, sitting atop a table, surrounded by a pile of contracts and information. As soon as they were in the vaults, Talise had realized what a rich source of information they had come across, and she was taking anything she could think might benefit the Inquisition. Above the top edge of her black scarf, her sky touched gaze almost burned with intensity, as she worked.

Amelia stopped in front of a set of cupboards, and tugged the doors open, pulling rolls of parchment down, and opening each one carefully, her emeraldine gaze skimming over the words written before her, and either setting it back or putting it into the pile of things they were taking back to Skyhold.

“Soooo.. what are you going to tell me about Valissia?” Amelia kept her tone light as she spoke, but her gaze, when she peered at the Antivan from under a curtain of dark gold lashes, was curious.

Zevran looked up from a wooden chest, which he was rifling through, a grin of pure wicked intent on his features, “I am sure someone as smart as you are has already figured it out.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, smooth-talker.” Amelia laughed, setting the parchment she was reading down, and reaching for another.

"I am still very talented with my… tongue." His wicked grin turns positively lascivious as he looked over at Amelia, his eyes dancing with merriment. The evening had been a relatively pleasant one for him, he had dinner with Talise and her friends, they had an easy time getting into the vaults, and now he was flirting with a beautiful woman.

"Ooh!! That thing Orlesian's do with their tongue… do you know it?" Forgetting her work for a moment, Amelia turned from the cabinet and holding out a parchment for Talise to take.

“Of course I do. I have written many words, and my name, with the tip of my tongue and nothing else many times.” Zevran grinned wolfishly at Amelia, “Are you asking for a demonstration?”

For a split second, a glimmer of interest sparked in the storm mage’s leaf colored gaze, and then she shook her head no, going back to looking over the contracts, “Unless you fancy finding yourself on the end of a chevalier’s blade, I must say no.”

“And you Talise? Can I say nothing to seduce you away from Cullen?”

Talise looked up from the small book she was reading, lifting an eyebrow at Zevran. Focused as she was on her work, she smirked at him, shaking her head no, “You’re not tall enough.”

“Why must you wound me so?” Zevran grinned, his golden gaze flicking over a pile of parchment, “Hawke and Fenris will be so disappointed.”

“Both? Both of them were interested in her?” Amelia blinks, her eyes owlish in shock.

“Of course.” Zevran nodded, as if the interest of the Champion of Kirkwall and one of his companions was well-known, “I believe Varric had a bet going who would get her first.”

“Did he? I need to speak with him when we get back then", Talise sighed in aggravation, setting another parchment to the side. With fluid like grace, she slid from the table, stretching her arms above her head, the sound of her joints popping echoing in the room, "I think we have everything we need. Zevran, take  those daggers, consider them payment."

Smiling broadly, Zevran reached for the daggers Talise spoke of, but Amelia stayed where she was, her gaze locked onto the parchment she was holding. Except for her breathing, the storm mage barely moved, her eyes flicking over the words repeatedly. Both Talise and Zevran looked at each other, and then back to Amelia.

“Amelia, I thought you might want…”

One hand rose, and Amelia held it out while she read the words again. She heaved a trembling sigh, and briefly closed her eyes, lifting her lashes and turning to face Talise, “Do you remember how we got that scroll off that raven, that the House of Repose had dispatched more assassins, but we did not know where they had been sent to?”

Talise nodded, her dark brows knitting together in a frown that wrinkled her pale forehead, “Yes. I remember. We were just a few days out of Skyhold.”

Amelia clutched the parchment to her, chewing on her lower lip as she regarded one of her best friends, “I think I know where they are going.”

“Where?” Zevran grabbed the daggers, and then turned, reaching out for the parchment Amelia had.

Talise took the carefully rolled scroll from Amelia and held it open. When her eyes skimmed over the name, she jolted, nearly dropping the paper, and for a moment she fumbled with it. When her gloved fingers caught the parchment once more, and her summer bright gaze slid over the name once more, her eyes narrowed, and she hissed out a vicious curse in Rivaini.

Amelia’s face, normally a soft peach from her time outside, turned pale as she watched Talise. Zevran reached for the parchment once more, a deep feeling of dread within him; there could be only one name written on that contract to invoke such a response from Talise. Just as his fingers brushed against the parchment, tilting the paper so he could read it upside down, Sera leaned into the vault.

“Are we done? It’s boring sitting in the hallway”, the elf’s gaze took in a bow hanging on a nearby wall, and she let out a low whistle, “Do you think I could take that? I mean, it’s not likely they’re going to miss it for a bit.”

Valissia peered over Sera’s shoulder, her stormy gaze taking in the rigid length of Talise’s back, the way she stood, rooted to the floor, “Something is wrong.”

“There’s been a… development.”

Zevran lifted his molten gaze to Talise’s, and reached out for her shoulder, “It is fine. He is well protected at Skyhold. We will send word and they can have him guarded, and we will go back as fast as we can.”

“Sera…” Talise whispered the word, turning her head enough to catch the Red Jenny’s gaze, “Get your bow. Then get everyone, and get them ready to leave, we are going straight for the Comtesse’s estate, and Rylen.”

Sera nodded, tugging the bow down from the wall, “Is there another contract on someone?”

Amelia nodded, her features drawn tight with nerves, “Talise, give me the contract, I will keep it with the others. Let’s see if we can get word to Rylen, and have them ready to leave by the time we get there.”

“I cannot protect him. I have never been so far from him, and they come for him. I cannot lose him, I need him to see the sunrise. I have nothing left if I do not have him”, Cole spoke from the other side of the room, having materialized out of the very air around him. His pale, watery gaze was locked on Talise as he spoke, and she shook at his words, sucking in a breath.

“Maker… No.” Valissia whispered the words, her gaze bouncing around the room. Sera froze in the act of testing the string on her new bow, her eyes wide, and she looked to Amelia, who regarded her through equally wide emeraldine eyes.

Zevran held up a hand, reading the contract, “It appears the man who took the contract lives here. We need to find him.”

Amelia peered over the Antivan’s shoulder, reading the words again, “Marquise DuPlessis. I have no idea who he is.”

“The Comtesse that Rylen is escorting may know him”, Sera ventured, tugging the bow over her head.

“I don’t understand”, Cole frowned, “I thought we were just getting the contract on Josephine.”

“There’s a contract out, one the House of Repose is trying to fill”, Valissia murmured, beckoning Cole to her with a hand that trembled slightly.

Talise had never, despite the people in the room, all of whom she trusted, felt so alone. Her legs trembled with the effort of holding her up, and she fought to keep her breathing even, her heart was racing so hard it hurt with each beat, throbbing in her chest. The distance between her and Skyhold seemed insurmountable, she might as well be in Par Vollen, or beyond the Waking Sea, for all the help she could do. Finally, she heaved in a breath, her hands curling into fists, "The Comtesse will likely know who this Marquis is. We need to get to Rylen and plan. I am not leaving Val Royeaux without some answers."

The crumpled contract she shoved into her pack, and she turned, stalking from the vault. A rush of rage so hot it threatened to blind her rose up within her as she stormed through the building, surprising the scouts and agents gathered there, waiting for her. Once everyone had gathered around her, she swallowed the knot of anger, fueled by panic, down as far as she could, and spoke to the small group gathered around her, “The House of Repose accepted a contract on Commander Rutherford.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Outside a room in the infirmary, an argument raged. Less than an hour previous, Cullen had been standing at the war table, arguing a point with Josephine, when he suddenly dropped to the cold stone floor with a resounding clang of armor. Christopher and Iron Bull had virtually drug the commander to the infirmary, yelling for a healer; by the time one got to them, Cullen was already turning a sickly shade somewhere between yellow and green, after that, his veins turned black, visible through his sickly colored skin. Stripped of his fur-lined surcoat, and polished armor, he looked much smaller on the bed in the infirmary. The healers worked feverishly, but none could seem to stop the spread of poison.

The assassins had waited until Talise was well away from Skyhold; once the Ghost of Ferelden was too far to turn back and make it to Cullen’s side in time to defend him, they had struck. Magdalena had been in the gardens, planting precious seedlings, when Cullen had collapsed, and now she stood in front of the Herald, her hands still covered in dirt, her dark eyes snapping with anger.

“You must let me do this!” One hand gestured to the closed door to Cullen’s room for emphasis. Worry deepened the lines around her face, her concern was written plainly across her sienna features; the man she believed fated for Talise, her niece’s lion, was fighting for his life.

“She is talking about being a maleficar!” Cassandra shouted, her face tight with anxiety and worry.

“Nonsense!! This is how we have done it in Rivain for hundreds of years. The spirit does not want to stay with the body, it wants to go back to the fade. I’m not summoning a damn demon.” Magdalena sighed, repeating the words she had been speaking for nearly half an hour.

“Inquisitor”, Fiona’s voice broke through the argument, as the elven Grand Enchanter slipped through the crowd that gathered, “This poison is beyond anything I have seen. We have done all we can.”

“So you’re saying…” Beneath his tan, the Herald of Andraste paled, his evergreen gaze swinging towards the door, as if trying to see Cullen laying in the bed behind it.

“We must do something to save him.” Fiona answered, taking a deep breath as she looked at Magdalena, “I am unfamiliar with Rivaini magic, but I would be willing to try anything.”

“Of course she would”, Cassandra snapped, “She let Redcliffe castle be taken over by Venatori and Alexius.”

"That was not my doing," Fiona said, gritting her teeth for a moment, "The mages voted that decision in, despite what I wanted."

"Enough!!!" Iron Bull's voice echoed down the hallway, the Qunari warrior's frame filling one end of it, "Look, boss, I don't like the idea of a mage letting herself be possessed by a spirit. Or a demon. But we're running out of time here."

“How is…” Christopher paused for a moment, indecision showing across his features as he looked at Magdalena, “How does this work?”

"A seer summons the spirits. One takes possession of her and draws directly from the Fade. Spells are more powerful, and can be cast longer." Magdalena's gaze flicked to the Templars behind Christopher, eying her nervously, "There is always at least one Templar with us when we do this, at least there was."

"I would remind you, Inquisitor, that the Circle in Rivain was Annulled because of this", Cassandra spoke then, moving to stand with the Templars.

Magdalena let go a splitting curse then, throwing her wrinkled hands into the air, “Fine then. Let him die! Talise will return from Val Royaeux, and you can explain to her what happened. She has given everything to this Inquisition… and this is how you repay her?”

“We have all given to the Inquisition Magdalena.” Cassandra folded her arms over her chest as she spoke.

"None like she has. Her brother died to see to it that everyone in Haven escaped, including you Herald. She revealed herself, her true identity, knowing the danger it would bring to her, and chose to serve the Inquisition", Magdalena turned, walking towards the door to Cullen's room, "I for one, will not stand here bickering while Cullen lies in there dying. Unless you care to throw me in the prison with Alexius."

From the shadows, a pair of bright, icy eyes gleamed, and a soft voice with a lilting accent spoke, “I see where Talise gets her stubbornness from.”

“Leliana, what should we do?” Cassandra spoke, even as she moved to follow Magdalena.

“No one knows anything about this poison. No one has seen it’s like before. Without Cullen the army would be crippled, there is no one who can take his place”, walking to the doorway of Cullen’s room, Leliana sighed and closed her icy blue eyes when she saw the commander on the bed, growing weaker and sicker by the moment, the inky blackness tracing his veins was spreading, now it was over his broad shoulders, and stretching towards his stubble-covered cheeks, "Let Magdalena work. Send a Templar in there with her, if she appears to be possessed by a demon they can control it."

“What will everyone think?” Josephine chewed on her lower lip, her gaze dark with worry. The nature of the situation, how dire it was, showed on the ambassador.

"They will think that Magdalena is a superb healer because that is the rumor we will spread", Leliana leaned against the wall opposite Cullen's room, watching through the open doorway.

"I would like to go in. If that is possible", Ser Barris moved through the small knot of Templars, who gave way for him. Uncertainty and concern were written on his features, but so was determination, "I have read about how templars worked with Rivaini seers. I know what to look for.”

Christopher nodded in agreement, pushing his way through the crowd of people, “I will go to my quarters and get my sword. If we are going to let Magdalena do this, I must be in there.”

“Do you think it is wise for the Herald to be involved in such matters?” Josephine queried, once more chewing on her lip.

“If this goes wrong, Talise will lose both her aunt and Cullen. Do you want to answer to the Ghost of Ferelden when she comes back to Skyhold?” Blackwall mused, holding out an arm for Josephine, “Allow me to escort to the main hall my lady, you should rest.”

“I have so much to do. But… I do need a moment to compose myself”, Josephine cast one last anxious look into Cullen’s room, closing her eyes, “Maker be merciful.”

“Let’s go people, let the healers work”, Iron Bull motioned to the people gawking at the scene, his deep voice hard enough that people listened.

Inside the room, Magdalena stood by the bed, wiping Cullen’s face off with a damp cloth. When Delrin entered the room, she offered him a small smile, “I have worked with templars many times Ser Barris.”

“I have never done… this…” the templar gestured with one gloved hand towards Cullen, “But if this is the only way to save him.”

“You have fought a demon before, yes?” Magdalena drug a small chair across the room, placing it close to the side of Cullen’s bed.

“Yes. On Dragon’s Peak.”

“Then you know that demons have a feel to them. The very air changes around them”, Magdalena sat in the chair, deftly tying her long, silver woven hair up into a bun on her head, “Spirits change the air as well. But in a different way. It is calming, soothing. When she was little, Talise said it was like being wrapped in a warm blanket.”

Delrin and Cassandra exchanged uncertain glances, and the templar stood beside the Seeker, “I think I understand.”

“Now, if you feel the presence of a demon, please, do not hesitate. Either of you”, Magdalena looks over her shoulder at Delrin, her dark brown gaze serious and focused, “I have no wish to become the path for one of those hideous things to come into this world.”

With a quick knock, Christopher entered the room, carrying his shield and sword, close on his heels was Solas. The elf looked both concerned, and very curious, his gaze darting to Magdalena even as he leaned over Cullen, resting one long-fingered hand on the commander’s forehead.

“This poison, I do not know it”, Solas murmured, his fingers tracing over the black veins on Cullen’s arms, “But it is spreading quickly.”

“We must hurry”, Magdalena nodded in agreement.

“If you do not mind, I would very much like to be here.” Solas stood beside Magdalena, “I assume you are not falling asleep to summon a spirit.”

“No, I am not. I will ask you Solas, and Christopher, the same thing I asked of Ser Barris and Cassandra. If I become possessed by a demon, do not hesitate. You must not hesitate, for the sake of everyone in Skyhold.”

“What do we need to do?” Christopher stood in between Delrin and Cassandra, all three rested their hands on their swords.

“Cling to hope. Do not lose hope.” Magdalena murmured in response, “Focus on hope. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.”

Slowly, guided by Magdalena, the occupants of the room started to breathe with Magdalena. The room grew quiet, except for Cullen's breathing, which was rattling each time his muscular chest lifted and fell. Each moment seemed to stretch out, one after another, until slowly, the room warmed, the air seemed to change, and every person felt their spirits lift, hope swelling within them. For Cassandra the room smelled of her favorite rose petal bath, for Solas, it was the soft air around ruins at night, for Christopher it was the smell of ink on parchment, and for Delrin, it was the sharp tang of freshly cleaned armor. Cassandra looked towards Magdalena, parting her lips to ask a question, and she froze, her gaze wide. Delrin and Christopher did the same, and both looked on in wonder.

Solas, closest to Magdalena, could only stare in wonder as Magdalena's eyes turned from a deep brown to a glowing, unearthly blue. Bright streaks of blue ran down Magdalena's bare arms, flowing over her shoulders, gleaming beneath the light robes she wore.

“There is always hope”, the elven mage whispered, watching Magdalena’s possessed body, holding one hand out towards the warriors gathered on the other side of the room.

“Always.” the spirit answered, her hands reaching out towards Cullen, “I was there the night Talise was born, Magdalena needed help saving her. And now, I will help save Cullen.”

Cassandra reached out blindly towards Christopher, clutching his arm as she watched the scene before her, and the Herald and Delrin exchanged wide-eyed, wondering looks. As they watched, Magdalena’s hands skimmed over Cullen, her fingers glowing the same blue as her eyes; slowly, with each pass over Cullen’s arms, the blackness in his veins faded, the sickly hue disappeared from his skin, his breathing became easier. The spirit controlling Magdalena worked far longer than any mage would have been able to, healing the damage done, and pulling the poison from his body.

Once Cullen lay on the bed, breathing easier, pale but healed, Magdalena stood slowly from her chair and turned towards Christopher. Her unearthly gaze pinned the Herald to the floor, and a tremble ran down his large frame as he stared back at the spirit who regarded him through Magdalena's eyes. Finally, Magdalena spoke, breaking the stillness of the room, "Herald of Andraste. Remember to have hope. When all seems lost, you must cling to hope. There is no evil in this world that can defeat that.”

Christopher nodded, and both Delrin and Cassandra found themselves nodding in agreement. Magdalena’s eerie blue eyes closed once, and then a second time, within seconds the bright stripes of color had faded from her skin, and her eyes were once more a deep brown, almost black in the faint candlelight. Solas caught the Rivani seer as her knees buckled, and guided the older woman to the chair beside Cullen’s bed.

“It is done. I think”, Magdalena sighed, lifting a trembling hand to the bed, and resting her hand lightly on Cullen’s arm.

“Will you… need to do this again?” Cassandra asked, letting go of the hilt of her sword for the first time since she had come into Cullen’s room.

“Perhaps. If there are any lingering effects, then I will.”

“You summoned a spirit of hope. They are quite rare”, Solas spoke then, looking at Magdalena with disbelief in his gaze.

"Yes. She has only come to me during the direst of times when hope is all I had left".

"I felt… at peace." Delrin blinked several times as if he was trying to clear his mind of a vision.

“That is how most people feel. Having something to hope for fills most of us with a sense of peace” Magdalena answered. Her gaze flicked to the closed door, and she lifted a hand towards it, “Someone needs to let everyone know Cullen has made it through.”

Ser Barris left to speak with Leliana and Josephine, followed by Christopher. Cassandra and Solas lingered, the Seeker out of concern for Cullen, the elven mage because he was fascinated by what he had just seen. Throughout the night, Magdalena refused to leave Cullen's side, she kept a cool cloth on his forehead, made sure his blankets were tucked around him and fussed over him like a mother with a sick child. Fiona came by, late, and she talked with the Rivaini, nodding in agreement with what Magdalena said, checking on Cullen and bringing more healing tonics and lyrium potions herself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talise held up her hand, quieting the group of scouts and spies around her. Her summer bright gaze was cold with anger, her emotions visible in every tremor of her frame, in the way her voice hardened as she spoke, “We are going to stick to the original plan, from here we head for the Comtesse’s estate. However, the man who placed the contract is here, and I am not leaving without tracking him down. Once we get to Rylen, we can formulate a better plan.”

A man stepped forward, his face covered in a mask favored by the Orlesian’s, behind him were several more people, all dressed as Orlesians. Talise’s bright gaze narrowed as she looked at the man and the group assembled behind him, “I knew it was too easy.”

“I wanted you to know that we truly regret the way things happened. But the contract had to be honored, unusual though it was.” The man bowed slightly.

“You came into my house. My house, threatened one of my own, and you just regret it?” Talise hissed the words out, her bright gaze narrowing as she looked at the assassin, and those gathered around him. Zevran remained silent, his gaze calculating as he took in the assassins that had gathered, weighing the odds.

“I was unaware you considered Skyhold your house.”

“Am I not living there? Am I not a member of the Inquisition? And am I not still Ghost?”

“All of those are true, yes.”

"Then you had to know I would respond in blood." As she spoke, there was a quiet movement, Leliana's agents emerged from the shadows, handpicked by the spymaster, but trained by the Ghost of Ferelden now, weapons were drawn. Amelia and Valissia reached for the staves, and Sera knocked an arrow, pulling it tight.

The masked man held up his hands, “There is no need for violence.”

“No need??” Talise’s voice rang out in the dark courtyard, betraying the rush of emotions that had her heart racing, “You took a contract on the Commander of the Inquisition’s Army.”

“We had no idea at the time who was taking the contract, or why. It was just business”, the man spoke smoothly, keeping his hands raised where Talise could see them.

“And yet you didn’t think to notify us? We had the courtesy of a formal response from you about Josephine.” Talise fairly snarled the words out, her fingers curling in an effort to keep from snatching her daggers.

“The contract with Josephine was unusual. But this was an oversight on our part, considering you are at Skyhold now. Working for the Inquisition I presume”.

“An oversight I should pay for in blood.” Talise hissed the words out, and this time she did not resist the dark impulse that drove her to tug her long daggers from her back. At her side, Zevran smiled darkly, dropping the top of his hood over his face, one slim hand reaching for the daggers he wore.

“Ghost please… we have no wish for this to come to violence”, the man spoke, his voice growing plaintive as he looked around. The small group of assassins from the House of Repose was completely surrounded, flanked by the scouts and agents, and he faced a visibly angry Talise, who stood before him, her eyes a brilliant mix of blue above the edge of her mask.

For a long moment, Talise said nothing, it took several deep breaths for her rage to quiet down enough to let her talk with screaming, “Let me make myself perfectly clear, if you pick up another contract on any member of the Inquisition, if your agents show up in Skyhold again, if someone connected with the Inquisition dies in a manner that is favored by the House of Repose, I will rain blood and death upon this house. I will dismantle it with my bare hands, brick by brick, bone by bone. Do you understand me?”

"Oui. I apologize Ghost, we truly did not wish for things to come this far", the man stepped forward, holding out a packet of parchment, all rolled together, "A show of good faith. There is everything to know about the Marquise DuPlessis. His estate is not far from here."

Talise leaned forward, and snatched the papers from the man, keeping one dagger tightly gripped in her hand until she was back out of arm’s reach, “Do not interfere with this. Do not interfere with Inquisition business again.”

A packet was pressed into her hand, and the man bowed once more, “This Corypheus is a threat to us all, and we know that. If you need help, do not hesitate, we will offer aid in any way we can.”

“I will relay your offer to the Herald.”, Talise gritted the words out, and the assassin bowed to her, before joining the other members of the House of Repose, and disappearing into the night.

When the last of the Orlesian assassins disappeared into view, Zevran heaved a dramatic sigh of relief, tucking his daggers away, “That was quite the display, my angry little water lily.”

"What was I supposed to do? Thank them for exposing a few weaknesses in Skyhold?" A frown marred her forehead, drawing her dark brows together over her bright blue gaze.

“Perhaps. I’m sure there are many places to hide in a keep that big.”

“I know you’re worried about Cullen, but you’ve got to think clearly about this”, Amelia laid a hand on Talise’s armored shoulder, “And whatever your plan is, I will be with you every step of the way.”

“I feel like burning Val Royeaux down right now”, Talise muttered the words, sheathing her dagger with a violent twist of her wrist.

“Then we’ll light the fires”, Valissia murmured, her stormy gray gaze peering out into the darkened streets they stood on.

“No. Right now we need to get to Rylen and let him know what is going on. From there, we will track down this Marquise."

“The Commander is in danger, isn’t he?” Cole blinked, his gaze confused as he looked at Talise.

“Yes. And there is nothing we can do about it”, Talise shoved her daggers into their sheaths on her back with more force than necessary, her hands trembling slightly.

“But we’re still going to stick it to this Marquise right?” Sera asked, carefully sliding an arrow back into her quiver.

“Absolutely. There is no way I am going to let this just slip by.”

The scouts and spies stationed in Val Royeuax scattered as Talise made plans to leave the city itself. Every single one of them scrambled to get a message to Leliana, trying to get word of the contract on Cullen to the spymaster, in the hopes of heading off an attempt on the commander’s life. Ravens lifted into the sky, all heading in the direction of Skyhold, while Talise checked the saddle on her horse. Talise’s companions headed to the stable where they had hidden their horses, leaving Talise standing in the shadows, watching the lights flickering in the windows of the buildings around her.

“My water lily, would you like some company?” Zevran spoke from behind Talise, flipping the crow-headed hood of his cloak back up over his bright blonde head.

For a moment, Talise regarded the elf through summer bright eyes still blazing with fury. The friendship she had with Zevran, their understanding of each other, was reflected in his molten gold and green gaze, a smile of reassurance lifting his lips. One gloved hand reached for her, cupping her shoulder gently, “Talise, you must breathe.”

“I cannot. The world is crumbling beneath my feet and I have nothing to hold on to”, the visage of righteous fury cracked, and with a sudden blink, Talise’s gaze was swamped with crystalline tears. Her lashes grew darker, spiking together as she blinked back the sudden rush of emotion.

“It is difficult, living after so long on your own, to find the one person you could spend forever with”, a look of compassion crossed Zevran’s gaze, one born from understanding, as he leaned into Talise, letting her lean her forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Zevran. You have been through worse.” Talise sniffled, her shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping her sobs quiet.

"I have. Which means I have the understanding you need. Take your time." Zevran rubbing Talise's armor-clad back in a soothing motion, whispering in her ear, "Or we can take no time, and burn Val Royeaux down like you mentioned earlier. Have I mentioned how lovely you look by firelight?"

A chuckle escaped her, hiccupping out around her tears, and Talise peered over Zevran’s shoulder at the city, trying in vain to wipe at her tears with a gloved hand, “I hate this city.”

“I was never particularly fond of it. Antiva City is much nicer.” Zevran smiles, raising a hand to cup Talise’s cheek, using his leather gloved fingers to gently wipe the tears off her cheeks, “Remember my water lily, I am here if you need me.”

“Yes, I need you with me when we track down this Marquise”, she answered honestly, leaning her cheek against Zevran’s hand for a moment, before pulling away. The quiet clop of hoof beats announced the arrival of Talise’s companions. Demon peered out at Talise from atop the assassin’s mount, long talons curling into the saddle she was perched on.

Amelia held out the reins of another horse to Zevran, her lips curling in a smile, “I had a feeling you’d be staying with us Zevran. The stable hand said this one belonged to you.”

“Ahhhh… well, she belongs to a target, but he is dead and I needed the horse to get away”, Zevran took the reins with a grin and a wink.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Cullen came back to awareness. He was so tired, it felt like he had not slept in days, his head swam, but ever so slowly his tawny lashes lifted, and he found himself looking up at the ceiling to the infirmary. A slight frown marred his forehead, as he tried to remember what had happened. A small hand was clasped around his, for a split second he thought Talise was with him, and he jerked, trying to lift his head from the pillow.

“No Cullen. Rest”, It was Magdalena holding his hand, the seer gripped his hand tighter, and leaned over him, “Everything is fine.”

“Is he awake?”, Cassandra pushed herself from a chair in the corner, where she had been reading reports, wincing as she straightened out. For hours she had sat in the chair, flipping through report after report, until the words in front of her gaze had run together, and her muscled cramped.

“What… what happened?”, his throat hurt, all of Cullen’s muscles hurt, and a chill ran down his spine, shaking his large frame.

“The House of Repose, we believe. You were poisoned”, Magdalena pushed herself to her feet, running a creased hand over Cullen’s forehead.

Cullen blanched at her words, and then the memories came back, standing in the war room, arguing a point with Josephine, reading reports sent from Rylen and Talise. But beyond the memory of the stone floor of the war room rushing to him, his memory was blank, “I can’t remember…”

“It worked quickly. None of us have seen poison like it” Cassandra gestured to Magdalena with one hand, “She is the only reason why you are alive.”

A frown marred Cullen’s forehead, and he sank back onto the pillow, his strength leaving him, “Thank you.”

“Cullen, you are close enough I could call you my nephew. Besides, I was not going to tell Talise you had died”, the Rivaini smiled gently, and then reached for a nearby cloth, wiping his face gently, “Rest. You are safe here.”

The Commander was asleep in moments, as Magdalena continued to gently wipe his face with the cool cloth. She tugged her other hand from his, and ran her fingers gently through his hair, marveling over the golden curls that wrapped around his finger, “His hair is beautiful.”

“It is. Every woman I know is envious of it”, Cassandra smiled, before dropping back into her chair, scrubbing a hand through her short, dark hair as she yawned. It had been a long night, twice more Cullen had needed to be healed, and twice more Magdalena had summoned a spirit. Solas and Dorian had been in the room with her the second time, while Vivienne watched from the door, leaving on a disgusted sniff. The second time it had been just Magdalena and Cassandra, the Seeker never grew comfortable with the idea of a mage summoning a spirit and letting it possess her; but she admired Magdalena’s willingness to make a decision, and her willingness to submit to possession, in an effort to save Cullen.

 “You should rest Seeker”, Magdalena murmured the words, laying a damp cloth over Cullen’s forehead, “You will bear the burden of running the Army until either Cullen is well or Rylen returns.”

“As should you Magdalena. You look as exhausted as I feel”, Cassandra handed Magdalena another cloth, this one the seer wiped gently down Cullen’s face and then arms.

“Cullen is part of my family now. And I will not face Talise and tell her that I did not do everything I could for her lion while she was gone”, Magdalena shook her head at Cassandra’s words.

A small smile pulled at Cassandra’s lips at the mention of Talise, watching the romance between the assassin and Cullen had tugged on her heartstrings, “Then let me get you something to eat.”

“That would be lovely Cassandra.”

“I brought fresh clothes”, from the doorway, Dorian leaned in, carrying an armload of clothes for both Cassandra and Magdalena.

“Thank you Dorian”, Cassandra’s froze for a moment, lifting an eyebrow in question, and when she finally spoke her words were stilted, but she took the clothes.

“You know, you two have more in common than you have differences. You’re both struggling with the weight of a family name, and reputation, trying in vain to keep it from defining who you are”, Magdalena reached for a healing tonic, the bottles neatly arranged on a small desk. She picked up one glass container, and shook it, eyeing the swirling contents critically.

Dorian and Cassandra looked each other, the Seeker’s gaze almost softening for a moment, before she shifted her bundle of clothes, “Yes well… I need to go change and go over Cullen’s reports. Magdalena, I will find something for you to eat, if you will not rest.”

"Thank you, Cassandra”, Magdalena offered a distracted smile as she repeated her actions with the healing tonics sitting on the table, judging each one carefully.

“There are more potions as well. And a few lyrium bottles for you”, Dorian took Cassandra’s chair, his gaze focused on Cullen, who had sunk back into sleep, “How is he?”

“I think we are past the worst of it, thank the Maker, or Sylaise, or whichever God the Qunari pray to for healing”, there was no hiding the tiredness in her eyes as she spoke, setting the last tonic down on the table, and then taking the basket full of replacement potions, setting it on the small table.

"I have to say, Magdalena, it is remarkable what you do. Just… letting a spirit possess you. And then it leaves", Dorian leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees as he studied the Rivaini seer.

"Spirits do not want to stay in a human body, they want to help, and then they want to go back to the Fade. Demons, on the other hand, they are hard to get out of a body", Magdalena picked up the clothes Dorian had brought and slipped behind a screen at the far end of the room.

"I’ve read that all Rivaini mages allow possession.”

“Si. Most do. The nobles are Andrastian and they discourage it, but those of that follow the old ways, we know the spirits will not harm us. And we are taught to recognize the difference between a spirit and a demon.”

“Do you think things would have been different in Kirkwall…” Dorian trailed off, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

“Do I think that this… Anders would have known what was happening? Perhaps. Mages here are not taught what a spirit wants, or what a demon wants. If he was taught properly, then perhaps, it would be different.”

“Vivienne doesn’t share your sentiment.”

“She is right in a way”, Magdalena emerged from behind the screen, running a small comb through her raven locks, the silver strands woven through it sparkling as she moves, “It is like playing with fire. We teach children not to touch a hot stove, or to stay away from a campfire. But as they grow we teach them, and an adult knows how to use that stove to cook, how to make that campfire. Mages in Ferelden, in Orlais, are like children, they’ve never been taught how to use the stove, but we expect them to cook a meal.”

Dorian nodded in agreement, “What they are taught leaves much out.”

“And have you ever told a child not to do something? Does that work?” deftly, Magdalena twists her hair into a long braid as she speaks.

“Never. They have to burn their fingers on a hot stove before they learn what hot means.”

“Exactly. Without someone skilled with them, mages attempt to learn more, to do more, and end up like Anders. Mages in Thedas need Templars because they are not taught properly, and cannot control their magic. Without fully understanding magic, and the Fade, and spirits, they become dangerous.”

“But then you have what is going on in Tevinter.”

“Ahhhh… yes. Tevinter stands as an example of what happens to unchecked power.” Magdalena nodded in agreement, picking up the empty lyrium bottles.

“So what is the answer then?”

"Knowledge. Both in magic and in responsibility. Mages must understand that their magic is a gift, but that it is a gift that requires training, dedication, and balance", setting the bottles down, Magdalena picked up a blanket from the foot of Cullen's bed, shaking it out and then refolding it. Her actions disturbed Cullen enough that his lashes lifted several times, and he blinked blearily around the room.

“Talise…” Cullen murmured the assassin’s name, his hands shifting restlessly on the bed. His tawny lashes lifted once, and then twice, as Dorian moved to stand next to him.

 “She is not back yet. But she will be.” Dorian smoothed the cloth on Cullen’s forehead, “Now go back to sleep, you need your strength.”

Cullen's amber gaze grew unfocused and heavy even as Dorian spoke, and he was asleep once more within moments, tawny lashes falling closed. Both Dorian and Magdalena took a moment to study the sleeping former Templar, and Dorian heaved a sigh, "It is not fair."

“What is not fair?”

“Look at him. He looks like a knight from the fairy tales.”

“He is handsome.” Magdalena grinned at Dorian, patting the mage on the shoulder gently.

“He never looked at anyone, it was always about work. Until Talise.” Dorian sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"She was the same way. I have never seen her take such an interest in any man, to be honest. And she's met, Alistair."

“I hear the king is quite handsome himself.”

"Oh, spirits yes. I met him once when I came to visit Jordan. He is taller than Cullen, with hair that is not red and not gold, but somewhere in between. He looks like a great bronze statue”, resting a hand on Dorian’s shoulder, Magdalena looked down at him, “How are they treating you here?”

“Oh… you know. Either they hate me or they are terrified of me.”

“And the Iron Bull?”

Dorian looked up at Magdalena, his lips parted as if to speak, and then he shook his head, “Oh no, I’m not talking about him either.”

“As you wish Dorian”, wearing a knowing smirk, Magdalena turned back to the empty bottles sitting on the desk. Carefully she gathered the bottles up, the glass bottles clinking gently as she placed them in a basket.

“I think one picture perfect love story is all Skyhold can take”, Dorian smirked, looking back to Cullen, asleep on the infirmary bed.

“I would not call them picture perfect. They have much to go, until the end.”

Dorian sighed, propping his chin in his hand. Magdalena’s gentle question about Iron Bull, the thought of Cullen dying, of what it would do to Talise, brought a sudden rush of tears to his eyes, and he gratefully took the handkerchief Magdalena held out for him, “Thank you.”

“You hide that sweet, gentle soul well Dorian, wrapped in fancy clothes and blustering talk. But I see it”, the Rivaini seer smiled as she opened the door to Cullen’s sick room, and motioned to a passing servant, whispering instructions.

“Let’s not tell anyone about it, shall we?” Dorian smiled, pushing himself up from his chair, “I think I will go to the library and get some books. Is there anything you want to read?”

“Nothing too boring”, Magdalena smiled, opening the windows to Cullen’s room and tugging them open. She sighed in relief as the room filled with fresh, crisp air.

“I will be back shortly then.” Slipping from the room, Dorian headed to the library.

Magdalena sat in the silence of the room, crisp air filtering in through the open window, her deep, fathomless brown gaze watching Cullen as he slept. His powerfully muscled chest rose and fell slowly, the color slowly returning to his skin. Scars dotted his shoulders and arms, his knuckles bore signs of fighting. A smile curled the corner of Magdalena’s lips as she studied her niece’s partner, and she curled her legs beneath her in her chair, resuming her bedside vigil with a lighter heart, “Talise always did have a weakness for warriors.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. The Ghost of Ferelden spares no mercy in her efforts to save Cullen. Friendships start to show some strain, and Amelia shares a secret with Rylen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!! I appreciate everyone taking the time to read this.   
> After this, I have several ideas where the story will head. I may swing it back towards more canon, I may not. I'm still not sure exactly where this is all leading.
> 
> Also, this chapter gets a little more gruesome than the past ones have. Whereas in the past I merely hinted at Talise as an assassin, this chapter I explored it more in depth. I'm updating the tags to reflect this.

The same golden sun that spilled into Cullen's sick room, warming the air, turning the sleeping commander's hair a soft shade of gold, had risen over the outskirts of Val Royeaux. Talise had been up before the sunrise, and had watched it, holding her breath as the sky turned pale, and then burst into a glorious display of crimsons, oranges, the clouds had turned pink before fading to white. Once the bright orb of light cleared the tops of the trees, Talise was off, riding hard for the Marquise DuPlessis’ manor.

In the deep of night, when everything before her was nothing shadow and darkness, Talise had fought off her anger and panic, by doing what she had always done. There was a grim sort of peace to be found, as she sunk deeper into her identity as Ghost. Plans had been made, Rylen and his men had insisted on going with her, once the contract on Cullen had been revealed, and now they were racing through past farmland, through small thickets of forests. Talise set a hard pace, her mount, one bred for stamina and speed in Rivain, leaping over fallen logs with ease, hooves pounding on well-worn roads.

As she had worked and made plans in the night, the woman that had started to show, beneath a cool exterior, the soft Talise, who liked to read books and eat chocolate sitting in the commander’s chair, who taught her spies with a gentle touch, had slowly disappeared. By the time the dawn had come, Talise was as sharp as her daggers, her summer bright gaze as venomous as the poisons her blades were coated in. Talise Montgomery, last of her family, possible Bann, was gone; and in her place was the Ghost of Ferelden. An assassin with no room in her heart for mercy, or forgiveness.

She pulled her mount to a stop just out of view of the chateau the Marquise called home, landing with barely a sound as she slid from the mount. Behind her, the odd assortment of people on this mission did the same, and above her head, a small dot of black moved, lazily floating through the early morning air. Standing on dew-soaked grass, the cool moisturize clinging to her black leather boots, Talise tilted her head, listening, when no shouts of alarm came, when Demon gave no shriek of warning, she handed the reins of her mount to a guard, who gathered the horses.

Keeping her gaze firmly locked on the estate before her, one slim hand drew her black scarf up over the delicate point of her chin, then her small nose, and finally her high cheekbones. The same hand reached for the hood of the cloak she wore, tugging it up over her chocolate dark tresses, pulling into a high ponytail. Beside her, Zevran flipped his crow hood over his face, obscuring his tanned features, and Amelia tugged her staff from her back.

“No sign of any guards. He must not know we’re here”, Rylen murmured the words, pale blue eyes flicking back to Talise.

She nodded in agreement, “The House of Repose knows to stay out of this. We should still have the element of surprise. But not if we stand here much longer.”

It took very little to take over Marquis DuPlessis’ manor. The guards the Marquise had hired had no wish to die defending the man, and once blood had been drawn on the first one, they had fled. The Marquis himself, a short, simpering man, had hidden in the back of a closet in the servant’s quarters. Although once he was pulled from his hiding place, and tied to a chair, the man had grown brave. He was refusing to talk and instead had resorted to shouting threats and insults in Orlesian to the group standing before him.

“He knows. He wants to stay hidden, he does not want to talk. But he knows. He is afraid.” Cole spoke from a corner, his pale eyes shifting from the Marquis to Talise.

"I know. The trick Cole is to get him to talk", Talise answered. She was sitting on an elegantly carved desk, her booted feet swinging casually back and forth. Her gaze, intense and focused, flicked from Cole back to the Marquis.

“I will never talk!! I am loyal to my master!!” The Marquis shouted, his accent thick.

"We can take him back to Skyhold," Rylen spoke, stretching his arms over his head and slouching further in the over-stuffed chair he sat in.

“Just say the word”, Sara stood behind the Marquis, an arrow knocked in her bow, and aiming directly at the Marquis, “If he ain’t gonna talk, what use is he?”

“Killing him would alert Corypheus that we have him. I’m not quite ready for that to happen yet”, Talise shook her head in disagreement at Sara, “But if it comes to that, you’ll get some target practice.”

Sara nodded, lowering her bow and carefully tugging the arrow free, “Fine. But I’m getting tired of his shite.”

“You cannot make me talk!!”

"You're right", Talise hopped from her spot on the desk and moved soundlessly to a large set of windows. Quiet snips sounded as she flipped the locks, the windows creaked as she pushed them open as wide as she could, "But I know someone who can."

“And they use the window?” Sara frowned in confusion, and then covered her head, as Talise raised her fingers to her mouth, blowing a sharp, high pitched whistle. The elf’s eyes grew round, and she looked back at Rylen, who lifted one broad shoulder in a shrug.

"Well, Demon doesn't exactly come in through the front door. She can't work doorknobs, or couldn't, last I checked." Amelia spoke then, raking a hand through her tresses, the bright golden curls tousled from their ride, and the small fight they had fought.

“Give her time. I’m surprised that damn thing doesn’t talk to you”, Rylen muttered, sliding from his chair and stepping clear of the window.

A beating of wings announced Demon's presence, the eagle landed on the windowsill and peering into the room with coldly intelligent, gold eyes. The Marquis huffed when Demon landed, his dark gaze darting back to Talise, "Is this supposed to make me talk?"

Talise lifted a shoulder in a shrug, gesturing to the eagle with one gloved hand, “It depends.”

“On what”, his beady eyes focused back on Talise, while he sneered at her imperiously.

Talise flicked her gaze to him, and held it for a moment, anger flared in her eyes, her gloved fingers flexed, before she got control of her emotions once more. A shoulder lifting nonchalantly, “On how much you like your face.”

“Talise no. You can’t…” Valissia spoke up then, pushing herself from the silken covered couch she was sharing with Amelia. Five sets of eyes, displaying the gamut of emotions, all swung back to Talise; and she met their gaze calmly, but focused.

“I’m not doing anything”, the assassin walked to her spot, and slid back onto the desk, watching the Marquis.

“What is this bird going to do?” The Marquis sneered at Talise. A flicker of fear ran across his face though, as Demon stretched, her wings opened as far as they could, her talons clicking on the wooden window sill.

“Depends on you. If you tell us what we need to know, everything we need to know, then nothing”

“And if I don’t?”

“She’s hungry. You’re going to feed her”.

Rylen’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, wrinkling the tattoos on his face, “Demon doesn’t just kill ravens… does she?”

It was Valissia that answered, her face half-buried in her hands, “She kills anything she can get her talons into. In the wild, eagles like her are accused of snatching small children.”

“And… eating them?” Sera blinks in disbelief for a second, before her face curves into an evil smirk, “Oh he’ll talk now. He likes his pretty little face too much.”

“You wouldn’t.” A fine line of sweat beaded his forehead as the implications of just why such a large predatory bird had been called into the room dawned on the Marquis.

“I just told you, I’m not doing anything. This all your decision, and your doing. Tell me what I want to know.” From her spot on the desk, her feet swinging with a deceptive carelessness, Talise answered the Orlesian nobility.

“I would tell her, I’ve watched that bird rip apart whatever she can get her claws in”, Rylen spoke up, moving to stand in front of Valissia. The spirit mage had turned an odd shade of green, and was watching the scene through her fingers, “Amelia, will you take Valissia outside, and go to where my men are waiting? Tell them we won’t be much longer.”

“Excellent idea.” Amelia had watched the events unfolding with a cool detachment in her emeraldine eyes, but she slid from her spot on the couch, and tugged Valissia to her feet, “I’ll make sure we have plenty of lyrium. He’ll need healing.”

“Cole, I need you to help me”, Talise spoke to the odd blonde rogue, who peered out from under his hat at her, “I need you to search the house. Look for anything about red lyrium, or Venatori. Do you remember how I taught you to look for hidden drawers and hiding places?”

 “I remember”, Cole nodded, almost puppy-like in his excitement. His mood at odds with the dark atmosphere of the room.

“Sera, go with Cole”, Talise held up a hand as the blonde-elf would argue, “I need you to make sure he doesn’t miss anything. And any information you find that might be helpful to the Red Jennys, take it too.”

Sera nodded, a grim smile on her lips as she looked at the tied Marquis, “You really gonna let Demon eat his face?”

“I keep saying, I’m not doing anything”, Talise shook her head, pushing strands of chocolate dark hair out of her summer bright gaze. Demon slid from the windowsill, flapping her wide wings, and dug her long talons into the wooden floor, leaving deep grooves in the wood flooring.

“You wouldn’t!!”

“Demon…” when Talise spoke, the eagle looked up, cocking her head as if she could understand the assassin as she spoke, “Are you hungry?”

The room they all sat in, opulently decorated with thick velvet curtains, overstuffed furniture, and shining wooden floors, that Demon was destroying as she sat in front of the window, grew heavy with silence. While Talise waited patiently, the room grew heavy, thick with anticipation, across from her the Marquis started to sweat, glistening beads popped out across his forehead.

“You… You wouldn’t.”

"Once again, I'm not doing anything. What happens next is a direct result of your actions." Talise slowly pulled a short dagger from her boot, and began to flip it in the air, catching the hilt in the palm of her hand every time. Although the move was casual, it spoke volumes about the amount of time and practice she had spent training.

Demon made her decision, and with several beats of her wings, she lifted herself into the air, long enough to land on the Marquis. Cruel talons curled into the silken shirt the man wore, ripping it, and digging into the man’s skin beneath, the Orlesian yelled more curses, trying in vain to lean back away from the eagle’s sharp beak as much as he could.

“I’m done playing”, Talise moved then, catching the dagger in one hand and sliding off the table at the same time. Her booted feet made no sound as she landed on the wood floor, and she stepped soundlessly over to the Marquis. Crimson blood darkened his shirt as Demon dug her talons in, and the man yelled once more.

“What do you want?”

“I want every piece of information you have. Who is selling red lyrium, who is supplying it. Who gave the order to take those contracts out on the Inquisition leadership, and I want every piece of paper, every scrap of communication between you and the Venatori. Right now.”

“He will kill me!! I might as well be dead!!”

“What do you think I’m going to do? By all means, fear Corypheus, fear his response. But right now, the Ghost of Ferelden stands in front of you. Fear me more." Talise leaned down, until her summer bright gaze was even with the Marquis, her chin hovering over the top of Demon's head. The eagle responded, rubbing the top of her feathered head against Talise's chin, gently nipping at her skin, much like a hatchling bird, begging for food from its parent. 

“Wait”, Zevran finally spoke then, moving from the shadowy corner he had been lounging in. With an almost feline grace, the Antivan elf slid from his chair and came to stand beside her.

Zevran never interfered, in all the time Talise had known him, worked with him, and even occasionally against him, he had never tried to make her stop. The shock of his actions broke through Talise’s mood, and she turned, pushing away from the Marquis.

“I’m not saying do not do this for him”, the former Crow said, not even sparing the Orlesian noble a glance, “But you need to think about what you are doing. There is a line you have never crossed, and you are going to cross it now.”

For a moment, a split second, Talise’s gaze softened, and a flicker of indecision gleamed from her eyes, half-hidden beneath the dark charcoal hood, “I know.”

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Zevran shifted a bit, peering at Talise from underneath his own cloak.

Talise’s gaze flicked to the Marquis, and for a split second, the Marquis appeared ready to cave. Demon's talons were digging painful furrows into his chest, bright red blood was steadily staining the front of his shirt. His bravado and his belief in the rightness of his cause rose up within him, and he glared at Talise, spitting at her.

Calmly, Talise raised one hand and wiped the spittle from her arm, her cerulean gaze turning frosty as she looked at the Orlesian noble, his mask gone, tied to a chair, “Yes. I’m sure.”

Before either Zevran or Rylen could respond, other hand trailed down Demon’s back, petting the eagle gently. Turning her back on the Marquis, tied to his chair, she murmured her approval to the eagle, “Do what you want Demon.”

The Marquis had enough time to let out a scream of protest, before Demon shifted, pulling her talons free of his wounded chest, and planting one foot on his cheek. Another scream echoed as Demon dug her claws into the man’s face, his cheek tearing in great strips. Knight-Commander Rylen, who considered himself a hardened veteran, could not keep from blanching at the sound, his gaze swung to Zevran, the Antivan Crow kept his molten gold and green gaze locked on Talise, even he could not watch Demon work.

The Ghost of Ferelden kept her back turned to the Marquis, waiting one long, horrendous moment longer. When she turned back, one side of the Marquis’ face had been destroyed, flesh stripped down to the bone, an ear was laying on the floor, ripped from the side of his head. Demon had shifted her position, she had both taloned feet clamped onto the man’s shoulders, and was leaning down, her beak hovering above one of the Marquis’ dark, beady eyes.

Talise flinched at the carnage before her, the first sign of genuine emotion anyone had seen passed over her face, and she sucked a breath into her lungs. The moment passed, and the frigid demeanor that had enveloped the assassin returned as she surveyed the wreckage that was the Orlesian’s face, “Last chance Marquis DuPlessis. We might be able to save your face.”

Her answer was a scream of curses in Orlesian, while the Marquis strained at the ropes binding him to the chair, fighting in vain to try and get away from his feathered attacker. Demon half turned, digging her talons into the man's shoulders for balance, and looked back at Talise, who watched the struggling Orlesian with a rather placid look on her face.

For long moments, all Talise did was study the man, strips of flesh hanging where his cheek had once been, muscle and bone visible in the faint light. When he continued to shout and curse at her, Talise lifted one small shoulder in a shrug, “Remember, you made this choice.”

Once more she turned around, inspecting the dagger she had been tossing in the air, rather than watch the scene unfold before her. A long, painful scream echoed in the room, followed by a sickening squelch, and a soft popping noise. Rylen, unable to take it any longer, moved from the room, muttering about helping with the search for information in the rest of the chateau. Zevran stepped towards Talise, gripping her arm tightly, although the elf was unsure if he was steadying himself, or Talise more. A fine tremor had Talise’s hands clenching on themselves as the sounds of Demon’s attack filled the room.

Silence finally filled the room, the quiet seeming to echo across immaculate wooden floors, the Marquis had fainted, falling into blissful unconsciousness, as Demon dug her beak into his eye socket, and ripped his eye from his head. The half-deflated orb, leaking a viscous, milky fluid, now dangled from the eagle’s bloody beak, it hit the floor with a wet, plopping sound as Demon opened her wings, flying the short distance to land on Talise’s arm. Long moments passed, as assassin and raptor studied each other, the eagle calmly watching Talise through cold, unflinching golden eyes, dark splotches of blood soaking into her black feathers, her bright yellow beak splattered with blood and flesh and even bits of bone. Talise calmly and slowly wiped her companion’s beak clean, and she was picking bits of flesh from Demon’s taloned feet when Rylen peered into the room.

“Is… is he dead?” The Knight-Commander kept his gaze firmly on Talise and Zevran, not brave enough to survey what was left of the Orlesian’s face.

"No. Just unconscious. He needs to be healed." Talise dropped the bloody rag she had been using to clean Demon onto the ground, and the eagle flew to the window, talons digging into the painted wood of the windowsill.

“He probably wishes he was dead”, Zevran muttered, finally letting go of Talise’s arm. His features softened into something close to sympathy as he looked at the disfigured noble.

Valissia stepped into the room behind Rylen, glaring at Talise through storm-colored eyes, “I thought you weren’t going to do this again?”

“What was I supposed to do? Hold his hand and hope he would like me enough to tell us what we need to know?” Blinking in surprise Talise said nothing, her eyes wide. She was so used to her friend's unwavering support, that the idea of having one of them angry at her actions left her feeling unsettled. After a moment, the cool demeanor of Ghost slid back into place, and she lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

Sera walked into the room, almost tripping over her own feet at the scene before her, “Shiiiiiiiite, that is bloody awful. So we found a bunch of letters and documents. There’s a lead on red lyrium, and the whereabouts of several other Venatori.”

Talise nodded as she leaned against the wall next to the window, watching as Valissia healed the man’s wounds. When she was done, scars decorated over half the man’s face, and the spirit healer visibly blanched, her pale skin growing almost white as she tied a length of bandage around the Marquis’ head, covering the bloody eye socket, “He will need further care. Are we bringing him to Skyhold?”

“Please… just kill me” The Marquis groaned the words, his head lolling back on his shoulders.

“No. I’m not doing that. I need one last thing from you.” As soon as the Marquis had spoken, proof he was conscious and coherent once more, Talise moved, pushing away from the windowsill, and stalking towards the noble.

“All the information you need is in a desk in the library, in a hidden drawer”, The man’s mouth had been untouched, Demon had done her job with surgical precision.

Talise shook her head as her soundless steps came to a stop in front of the Marquis, her summer bright gaze cold and intense as she looked down on the Marquis, “Oh we found it. I don’t need that from you.”

“Just kill me.”

“No”, Talise leaned down, grabbed a handful of the man’s dark hair, and used it to tilt his head until he was nearly nose to nose with her. The Marquis struggled as much as he could, groaning in terror, as Talise looked at his ruined, mangled face, “Tell Corypheus… the Ghost of Ferelden sends her regards. Tell him I will do the same, or worse, to every one of his agents, every Venatori, every red templar. Tell him death itself will not stop me.”

With a shove, she let go of the man’s hair, and stepped away, sliding the dagger she had been holding back into her boot in the middle of her stride, never missing a step. Amelia leaned against the doorway, arms crossed casually over her chest, and she nodded towards the injured man, still tied to a chair, “What do we do with dinner over there?”

“There’s a Venatori agent in Val Royeaux”, Talise looked over the list of names Sera had found hidden away, “Let this woman know the Marquis has been injured, and if she comes for him, she comes for him. If not, maybe one of his servants will come back and rescue him.”

“You know you’ll have to explain this back at Skyhold”, Valissia gestured to the man slumped over in his chair.

Talise looked at Rylen, and the Knight-Captain lifted one muscled shoulder in a shrug, his lilting brogue giving his words a musical quality as he spoke, “He’s an agent for Corypheus. I can’t say I feel that sorry for him.”

“We cannot treat people like this Talise!!” The words burst out of Valissia as she followed Talise through the now empty chateau.

“There is nothing I will not do, to win this war. There is no line I will not cross, no law I will not break.” Talise responded almost calmly, nodding at the soldiers waiting across an open courtyard, horses saddled and ready.

Cole stepped from the shadows, his gaze confused as he looked at Talise, “Why did you hurt him?”

“Cole, he was a very evil man. Men like him do not deserve compassion. Men like him are the reason why all those people suffered at Haven.” Talise spoke to the other-world rogue as she tightened the straps on her horse’s saddle, checking to make sure they were tight enough.

Cole frowned, shaking his head at Talise, “I don’t understand.”

“Sometimes Cole, in order to defeat people like the Marquis, you have to be willing to do dark things”,  Talise sighed, turning and laying a hand on Cole’s shoulder, “But I will never ask you to do something like that. And I won’t ask you to stay while I do something like that.”

“I would have stayed, if it had helped” Cole almost whispered the words, his voice shaking as he spoke.

“It wouldn’t have. I won’t ask you to do something you do not want to”, A small smile tilted Talise’s lips upwards, the first crack in Ghost’s armor. Zevran slid past Cole to cup Talise’s face in his hand, using the back of his glove to wipe away droplets of almost dried blood that had splattered across her cheek.

Valissia watched the scene before her through stormy eyes dark with a rush of emotions, anger, and disbelief, and now, a growing sense of jealousy. Her jaw ached from where she had clenched it, and her small hands curled into fists. Amelia stopped beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it gently, "Stop Valissia."

“I cannot believe she did that. She let Demon…”

“If it was Christopher, how would you feel?”

Valissia sighed in defeat, losing some of the stiffness she held as she looked at Talise, “The same way.”

"This isn't about Christopher or Cullen, is it?" With knowing serpentstone eyes, Amelia watched Valissia.

The spirit healer chewed on her lip for a moment, her teeth digging into the tender curve before she shook her head no, “I thought… I mean… He was never faithful to me anyways.”

Amelia nodded as she grabbed a waterskin from her horse, “No he wasn’t. And neither were you. But they have never been that way, and you know it.”

“Not for his lack of trying.” Valissia took the waterskin Amelia offered to her, sipping from it before passing it back to the storm mage. All the while she kept her stormy gaze anywhere but Amelia, well aware that her emotions were written plainly on her freckled features for the world to see.

“Bah… Zevran is like that with everyone. You’re looking at this the wrong way”, Amelia turned back to her horse, and tucked the waterskin into a saddle bag, “You’ve seen a side of Zevran that Talise, for whatever reason never will.”

“She has his friendship.”

“She understands him, and he understands her, on a level we won’t ever reach. She has never been able to understand what it is like to be a mage in this world, she isn’t one. But we have never been able to understand what it is like to be an assassin either. Zevran offers her an understanding we can't. Let her have that. And let him have that, he needs it as much as she does", Amelia leaned her cheek against Valissia's shoulder and curled an arm around the storm mage in a show of affection.

For long moments, Valissia watched Talise talk to Zevran and Cole before she heaved a deep sigh and nodded, "You're right. As usual. I just wish… it had been harder for him."

“Oh Valissia, if you wanted a man to pine after you, you picked the wrong man. Or elf”.

“I know. I know.”

“Let’s go home, and you can spend some time with Christopher, and you’ll feel better about this”, Amelia lifted her cheek from Valissia’s shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to the spirit mage’s freckled cheek. Valissia nodded in agreement and moved off to speak with Sera and several of the scouts, who were busily tying messages to the legs of several ravens.

“So who understands you lass?”, Rylen’s thick brogue cut through the morning air as he stepped towards Amelia. He was plainly tired, shades of blue encircled his eyes, he had more than a day’s worth of stubble on his cheeks and chin.

Amelia froze, her eyes wide, and for a moment she looked very much like a doe regarding a wolf. Beneath her care-free demeanor, there lurked a deep well-spring of emotion, and for a brief moment, it flashed in her eyes, “Who says I need anyone to?”

“I think we all need someone to understand us. Does Michel really understand you?”, Rylen arched a dark eyebrow in question at Amelia as he spoke.

“If you mean on some deep level, I don’t know. I’m very much something pretty for him, and his manners are impeccable.”

“And you don’t need more?”

“Knight-Captain, I had more. I had a person who understood me, who knew me well enough to know that I needed to live my life, to explore and learn and travel. Who knew that I needed to spend some time with Talise, before settling down to domesticity." Amelia fought the urge to slap a hand across her mouth after she spoke, her golden eyebrows drew together in a wince as she looked down at her booted feet.

Rylen seemed equally shocked, he was unprepared for Amelia’s response, truth be told he had expected a comment about Michel’s good looks, or something equally light. Instantly he realized his earlier impression of Amelia, as a consummate flirt, was all wrong. He regarded her carefully before he spoke, “And what happened?”

“I saved myself for him. The last job I did with Talise was going to be the last one, I was going to go to him, and we were going to finally be together. I was going to get my fairy tale”, again the words came tumbling out of Amelia before she had time to silence them, to bury them under layers of flippant, devil-may-care attitude.

“And?”

“And Corypheus happened. He died at Haven. So I know Rylen, what it is like to have that one person who understands you, who gets you. The one person you would walk across broken glass barefoot for. And I know what it is like to lose him. No matter what Talise may do, no matter how dishonorable her actions are, she is trying to protect Cullen. And I will back her no matter what”, Amelia moved then, turning to walk towards Talise. She stopped, turning on the hard-packed ground, and faced Rylen, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just blurt all that out.”

Rylen stood rooted to the ground, lips parted. Just when he thought Amelia was done, she turned and apologized to him, “No lass, I should be apologizing. I’ve misjudged you.”

“I would really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Talise about what I told you. She did not know what I had with Jordan. And it would only fuel her guilt over his death.” Amelia, who had blown into Skyhold with the force of a storm, who seemed so driven and confident, faltered. She was hiding behind a wave of golden curls, peering through a curtain of hair at Rylen, suddenly unable to face him.

“Of course not. I would not betray your trust like that.” Rylen spoke almost automatically, trying to process what he had just learned. As soon as he spoke, Amelia turned, almost sprinting to Talise; her cheeks burned with a rush of embarrassment, and uncertainty, she had revealed deep secrets to someone who barely knew her.

Rylen stood in the same spot for a moment, his eyes tracing over Amelia as she spoke with Talise. A few words and he suddenly understood more about her; she had not lost just a friend when Talise’s brother died in Haven, she had lost her future, the hopes and dreams of a young woman. The youngest of the three women, Amelia had faced heartbreak already. The Knight-Captain sighed as he turned to walk towards the soldiers waiting for his instructions. Jordan Montgomery cast a long shadow, one Amelia was still standing in.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, leaving Jader and heading back towards Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days, I'm going to follow my outline and be able to publish updates faster. Hell will be frozen solid by then.

 

 

“She did what??” Cullen stood in his quarters, pulling on his fur-trimmed surcoat, the warmth in his amber eyes dimmed by the report Leliana held in her hand.

The Inquisition’s spymaster stood across from Cullen, a stack of reports in her gloved hand, “Talise found a Venatori agent, and it was he who had taken out the contract on your life. She got to him, and is bringing back with her all the information they could find.”

“And he’s an Orlesian noble?”

“Was. Apparently, he died."

Cullen grew paler than he had already been. Unable to just lay in bed and rest, he had gotten dressed and spent part of his morning sitting at his desk. The letters from Talise he had saved until last, the creamy parchment she used, sat on his desk, the deep blue wax sealing her letters unbroken, "Did she…"

"You should read Rylen's report," Leliana answered, holding it out for Cullen to take. The redheaded bard seemed unaffected by what she had read within it, her face calm, her voice even.

Cullen reached for the report, and read it, his eyebrows lifting several times, before he dropped the report, one hand reaching for the back of his neck out of habit, “Maker’s breath… I can’t say I feel bad for the man.”

"He was a Venatori agent, likely plotting with whoever is threatening Celene’s life. In addition, he took the contract out on your life himself. I do not feel bad for him whatsoever.” Leliana responded, lifting one shoulder in a shrug, “Talise did everything in her power to protect you. I would do the same for someone I loved like that.”

A deep sigh left the commander’s lips and he nodded, dropping back into his chair with a heavy thud, “So the man died from his wounds?”

“According to my agents, none of his servants returned to his estate. By the time another Venatori agent in Val Royeux got to him, he was beyond saving. Or this other Venatori may have killed him.”

“Does Talise know that they were here?”

“I sent a message with an agent to Jader. She may get there ahead of the agent, I’m not sure, but she should learn of everything soon.”

“Where is she?”

“Crossing the sea now. They should land in Jader tomorrow, perhaps today, depending on how the weather crossing the sea is.”

He was unable to keep his gaze from darting to his bookshelf. Sitting atop a pile of books was the morning glory Talise had picked for him before she left. Kept fresh by an enchantment, the petals rested gently atop a book, half-hidden by shadows.

“She’ll be back by soon Cullen.” Leliana smiled gently.

The reports were ignored, and instead, Cullen reached for the letters Talise had sent him. Calloused fingers traced over the wax seal, the scripted M and a small smile lifted his lips as he broke the seal.

_Cullen,_

_Our first mission is complete, I have the contract on Josephine. But there has been a complication. Some Orlesian noble took out a contract on you. This was harder to write than I expected, putting the words on paper seems to make it more real._

_I am beyond terrified. I am too far away to protect you, and I am powerless to do anything. I stood in the vaults, holding that contract, with your name on it, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. It felt like my heart stopped in my chest. I should have seen this coming, I should have waited and not left Skyhold when I did, I should have done things differently._

_All I could think of was you hurt that day, and now you are the target, not Josephine. I can do nothing. One moment I am paralyzed by fear, and the next I am possessed by an urge to burn this damned city to the ground._

_In a few hours, we are leaving to track down this noble that took out the contract on you. I am not sure what we will find, but I am sure that he will pay for this._

_Please be careful. I need every sunrise._

_Talise_

His hands trembled slightly, from exhaustion and from the emotions that coursed through him, when he laid the first letter down. Tawny lashes covered his gaze as he tilted his head back, resting it against the back of his chair. Talise’s panic was near palpable, as was her anger, and he wanted nothing more to hold her to him, to cup the back of her head, and wrap his arms around her until her racing heartbeat slowed to normal.

The barest hint of what had transpired in Val Royeaux was in Rylen’s reports; after learning of the second contract, the group had gone to an Orlesian noble’s estate, took it over, and Talise had used Demon to try to get information from someone. The raptor was fearsome, cold and methodical as she hunted, but almost like a hatchling with Talise. A hatchling bird with talons nearly as long as his fingers, and a beak that could break a man’s fingers. Chills raced down Cullen’s spine as he thought of what Talise would have done.

“You know, you have someone willing to fight for you. To do anything to keep you safe from harm. Talise’s methods may be unusual, but her feelings for you are special Cullen. Not all of us have that in our lives.” Leliana gazed at the commander appraisingly, her eyes lingering on his hands, watching the fine tremble that shook his fingers.

“I… hadn’t thought of it quite like that” Cullen mused, his eyes tracing over the letter once more.

Leliana smiled, her icy blue eyes crinkling lightly around the corners, “I know you didn’t. But she loves you, and your feelings have been apparent since you met her.”

At the spymaster’s words, Cullen blushed, the high planes of his cheekbones turning pink, while one gloved hand raised to rub at the back of his neck, “I did not think I was that obvious.”

“Cullen, anyone could tell you had feelings for her. The first time you saw her you stopped in the middle of your sentence to stare at her”, Leliana’s musical laugh echoed in Cullen’s quarters, “We had several disappointed nobles once you made your relationship with her public.”

“I am not meant to be some Orlesian noble”, the commander snorted, rolling his warm gaze towards the ceiling of his quarters at the idea.

A smirk curled Leliana’s mouth at Cullen’s retort, “Oh but you can be a Fereldan one then?”

“I… Oh…”

“Cullen, Talise will be the next Bann of Nightreach. If you make things more serious with her, then you will wind up with that title as well”, Leliana arched an eyebrow up her eggshell pale forehead as she spoke, “The question is, are you prepared for that?”

“Nightreach is not your typical Bann. And Talise is not your typical noble.” Cullen sighed, raising a large, leather gloved hand to rub at the back of his neck, “Magdalena seems to think that Alistair may have ulterior motives for making Talise a bann”.

"If he's smart, he should. He has been on the throne for a decade now and has no wife and no heirs. Talise is considered one of the most beautiful women in Ferelden. She is certainly more beautiful than Anora was, even when I knew her. He could make the case to the landsmeet that Talise should be his Queen. And honestly, they are so eager for him to produce a legitimate heir, that they might overlook how tenuous Talise’s claim to nobility is.” Leil nodded in agreement to Cullen’s words, her gaze tracing over the letters sent from the assassin. No stranger to politics, Leliana knew what Talise’s use of a brand new seal, representing her family meant, Talise was one step closer nobility.

Cullen sucked in a breath at Leliana’s words. Talise was in the middle of a web of intrigue and scheming, even as she carved a bloody, violent path through Orlais and across Ferelden. The lines around his eyes deepened as he frowned, gritting his teeth at the thought of Talise married to Alistair, “I know. She's half Rivaini, an assassin, and still, I've heard the way the nobles speak of her. I’ve heard the whispered conversations.”

“And that is why you asked her to walk with you in the gardens so publically. For a man who says he can not play the Game and says he hates it, well played Commander”.

“There is nothing I will not do for Talise.”

“And that is exactly what she is doing for you.” Wearing a knowing smile, Leliana turned, and slipped silently out of the doors, walking back towards her rookery.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talise’s booted feet landed on the docks at Jader with scarcely a sound. The journey across the sea had been faster than she had expected, they had been blessed with the relatively good weather. While they were at sea, the coldly efficient Ghost has disappeared, and Talise had re-emerged. She played cards with Rylen and his men, told bawdy jokes with Sera, found Cole sitting with the ship’s cat and combed the purring feline’s fur out. Time spent with Valissia and Amelia mended the strained argument the three of them had gotten into over Talise’s treatment of the Marquis DuPlessis. Demon spent her time soaring in the clouds, returning at Talise’s sharp whistle, and the bird of prey was fed and spoiled by the assassin.

Cullen was never far from her mind, and worry often darkened her gaze, and she spent time alone, or with Demon for company, staring at the horizon, as if willing the ship to cut through the crystalline blue water faster. The shirt she had stolen from his room the morning she left no longer smelled of him, the faint trace of oakmoss and elderflower was gone, but she fell asleep with her face pressed against the crumpled linen, her fingers toying with the laces of the shirt. When Jader came into view, Talise had made her way silently to the prow of the ship, hanging so far over the wooden railing that Amelia had put a hand on her waist, her fingers curling tightly into Talise’s leather leggings.

“Maker… I am so glad to be on solid land again”, rather than jump over the side of the ship, as Talise had done, Valissia came down the gangplank as soon as it was placed. The spirit mage had stayed a rather sickly shade of green on the trip and had frequently been sick. Her auburn hair hung down her back rather limply, and her robes were dirty, the hem nearly black.

“I know you hate sea crossings.”

“From Kirkwall is worse.” Valissia murmured, sighing as she eyed her robes, “I’m going to go get my things and change and clean up.”

“My Fereldan rose, you still look rather pale” Zevran clucked his tongue at Valissia, lifting a golden eyebrow at Valissia, “Do you need me to wash your back?”

For a long moment, Valissia regarded Zevran through stormy eyes, her teeth sinking into her lower lip thoughtfully, “Would you make the same offer if Christopher were standing here?”

“Of course, my dear, the more the merrier”, Zevran grinned impudently at Valissia.

The spirit mage could not help the wide smile that dominated her face, a faint blush coming to her freckled cheeks, “If you come to Skyhold, I might take you up on it.”

As Valissia moved away, hunting for her things among the bags being off-loaded by the sailors on the docks, Talise turned to Zevran, her eyes slightly wide in shock, “Zevran… you’re not seriously considering….”

“I never turn down a night of pleasure. This Herald is a man no?” a well-muscled shoulder lifted in response.

“You just asked if the Herald of Andraste wanted to Valissia with you.” Talise hissed the words out, her gloved hand combing through the length of her tangled dark hair.

“I might share the Herald with Valissia.” With that last quip, Zevran slipped away to do his own business, his molten green and gold gaze taking in the port of Jader as he walked, “Don’t leave without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, Talise answered, shaking her head ruefully as Zevran melted into the crowds, disappearing in just a moment. As soon as he was gone, a pair of leather boots landed on the dock beside her, Amelia making a little more noise as she jumped over the side of the boat. Talise’s sky touched gaze flicked towards the blonde mage, “Is there a reason why you’re avoiding Knight-Captain Rylen?”

Amelia lifted one shoulder, trying to keep her features neutral as she gazed out over the crowds, “I’m not avoiding him.”

“Mmmmm… And that is why you jumped off the side of the boat rather than walk down the gangplank? Why you stayed on the other side of the boat away from him? That tempted?” Talise took her pack from a passing sailor and slipped it over one shoulder.

It took several moments for Amelia to answer, she was surreptitiously watching the man they were talking about from the corner of her long-lashed gaze, “No, I’m not tempted. He’s a templar. I’m an apostate mage.”

“He doesn’t strike me as the type to round up all the mages and throw them in Aeonar.”

“If the Circles are raised back up, he’ll still hunt for me.”

“Amelia, you know I will not allow that to happen.” Talise laid a hand on Amelia’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, “Is there another reason?”

Amelia said nothing, she had frozen in place, openly staring at Rylen. The Knight-Commander was looking back at her, half-listening as a soldier spoke to him, while around him, people worked to unload the boat as quickly as they could. For long moments, Talise's summer bright gaze bounced between her friend and Rylen, and she shook Amelia by the shoulder, just hard enough to catch the storm mage's attention.

“I will…” Feeling like she had shocked herself with one of her own spells, Amelia turned to Talise, “I will explain everything back at Skyhold.”

Talise did not miss the chills that broke out down Amelia’s bared arms, and she watched as Amelia tugged on a long leather vest over her short-sleeved tunic shirt. She said nothing, her brow furrowing as she watched Rylen still watch Amelia, who followed the same path Zevran and Valissia had taken, into the town itself. As soon as Amelia was out of earshot, Talise moved, walking with a fluid grace towards Rylen.

The Knight-Captain gestured to the good being off-loaded the boat as Talise stepped up to him, “We should be done unloading the boat in an hour or so. The horses will come last.”

Talise nodded, staring intently at the templar, there were secrets in her sky touched gaze and many questions, but she did not give voice to them, "Everyone has lodging for the night, and there are baths here as well. I do not want to tarry long, but we need to rest."

Rylen nodded in agreement, looking back at the soldiers that had come with him, all of them wore looks of exhaustion, several had been seasick on the short sea voyage, "I know you are eager to get back to the Commander."

“I am Knight-Captain, but I will do not do it at the expense of everyone else”, Talise gestured towards the tired soldiers and scouts with a gloved hand, “If I need to, I can ride ahead.”

By evening, everyone had found a warm room, had a hot meal and were resting. Once again several of the company were staying in the home of an Inquisition agent, Talise sat in front of the home of a local bookkeeper, who had generously given up several rooms. Her dark hair was still damp from a bath, and Valissia sat behind her, combing her dark tresses out, while Amelia lounged on the floor, her blonde head propped on the assassin’s thigh. 

“And then… I snatched all their breeches. They had to go out to fight half-naked”, Sera finished her tale, grinning wickedly and giggling.

Talise snorted a laugh, while Amelia giggled, and Valissia shook her head. Soon the four women were engaged in their favorite conversation, talking about men, and in Sera’s case women. When Zevran slipped into the room, four sets of eyes swung back to him, and Talise lifted a brow in question.

“Really… that’s quite impressive.” Talise deadpanned, the delicate features of her face kept perfectly neutral, but her sky touched gaze was twinkling with merriment as she looked at Zevran.

Valissia turned a deep, dark shade of rose, blushing to the edge of her auburn hairline, and she kept her gaze firmly on Talise’s hair as she continued to comb it, “We are not talking about this right now.”

“Ahhh.. my lovely ladies, if you wish to hear of my exploits, I will tell you myself”, Zevran grinned, dropping into a chair by a cheery fire, sighing in relief as he relaxed.

“Aye, I’m sure you would be all too eager to talk about yourself, but let’s skip that for the evening, shall we?” Rylen stepped into the room, taking up a chair across from Zevran, “Everyone has a room for the evening, most of the soldiers are already asleep. I believe the scouts are going to divide up the watches.”

Talise nodded, her head tipped up to the ceiling as Valissia combed out the hair on the crown of her head, “Thank you Rylen.”

Sera chose that moment to tell another racy story, and the women with her fell into another round of giggles. Valissia’s gaze flickered to Zevran, and the Antivan assassin met her eyes steadily every time. Amelia tried her best to keep her gaze anywhere but Rylen, the templar watched her steadily, and finally, the storm mage pushed herself up from the carpeted floor, reaching for a nearby pack.

“You know, I feel bad for them. They won’t always be this way”, Zevran murmured the words to Rylen, his accent thickening his words.

“What do you mean?” Rylen looked from Amelia, to the Antivan sitting across from him, confusion evident in his features.

"Well, Talise will be Bann. Everyone swears that Cullen will marry her. He should if he is smart".

“And?”

“Rylen, they grew up together, they are like sisters. But each one will want to start their own lives. Talise will marry Cullen, and probably fill Nightreach with adorable babies.”

The Knight-Commander said nothing, but watched the group of women across the room, laughing over a book of poetry Amelia had produced, before laying her head in Sera’s lap while she read it.

Zevran watched the woman sitting across the room from them, reading and giggling, tightening the bonds of friendship that had kept the three of them alive, “If the Circles are rebuilt, Amelia and Valissia will run before facing life in them.”

Rylen nodded at that, his gaze dark as he looked at the mages sitting on the floor. Valissia was leaning against a small chair, flipping through a second book, something that had made her cheeks heat in a blush, as Amelia slammed the book of poetry shut, giggling about it being too scandalous to read.

“Tell me Knight-Captain. Would you hunt for Amelia? Or Valissia?” Zevran slouched comfortably in his chair, stretching his booted feet towards the fire. He looked for all the world like he was relaxing, but his focused gaze locked intently on Rylen.

For long moments, Rylen said nothing in return. The warmth from the fire was comforting, and his blue gaze focused on Amelia with intensity, “I saw what had happened at Kirkwall. The templars are far from what we should be. Things must change.”

“That was a nice way to avoid answering my question.” Zevran leaned back in the chair, furthering his relaxed pose, lashes half-hiding his gaze.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I care for both of them. All of them. And I know what life in a Circle can be like.”

“You saw both Kinloch and Kirkwall”.

“I did”, Zevran nodded smoothly, “And whether Talise is Bann or not, if the templars come for either of her friends, they will face the Ghost of Ferelden. No matter how things may change between the three of them, she will have no compunction about killing a templar to protect either of them.”

“I know. I have no doubts in my abilities, but I have no wish to end up facing her either”, Rylen slouched in his chair, covering a yawn with the back of his hand.

“I have few friends Knight-Captain. I do not wish to lose any of them”, Zevran leaned forward, his molten gaze dark with intensity as he looked at the templar sitting across from him.

“I would not want to track them down and force either one of them into a Circle.”

“Good. We’re in agreement then.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cullen stood outside the war room, flipping through a stack of reports. As one powerful shoulder leaned against the wall for support, he felt a set of eyes on him and looked up to see Cassandra standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Commander, you should be resting," Cassandra responded, stopping in front of her Cullen.

“I need to be doing something.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, holding up the reports in his hand.

The Seeker let out an irritated snort, “Fine. Take your reports and read them while you’re resting.”

For a long moment, Cullen said nothing, his warm amber gaze tracing over the reports in his hand before he looked up to the Seeker as she stood before him, “Cassandra, I need to ask you something.”

“If this is about the lyrium.” Cassandra let out a disgusted snort, making her feelings clear; she had no intention of picking another commander for the army and had not budged from their previous arguments on the matter.

“No. No, it’s not” Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved fingers, “You were with Magdalena when…”

She nodded, sighing in half-hearted annoyance when Cullen drug out his question, “When she saved your life?”

“Well… yes.”

“I was.” Cassandra nodded, leaning against the wall next to Cullen, her arms still folded over her chest.

“Did she really… I know Rivaini mages are different, but she didn’t really summon a spirit did she?” Cullen could barely wrap his mind around the idea, and his disbelief at the idea showed in his gaze.

Cassandra regarded Cullen for a moment, taking in the deep circles around his eyes, “If I tell you will you go rest?”

“Since it appears you won’t give up, yes.”

“Yes, Magdalena did summon a spirit, and she let it possess her”, Cassandra said without preamble, “Three times. Each time, the spirit came, healed you, and then left. Magdalena has shown no signs of possession since.”

Cullen remained quiet, his warm amber eyes wide as he looked at the Seeker. His emotions were clearly written across his features; unease at what had transpired, disbelief that it had actually been done, and wonder that he had lived through it.

“I cannot say I agreed with the decision at the time. But it worked. And she was the only one willing to do something to try and help you. No one knew what to do.”

“Leliana says they still have not identified the poison.”

“No one has. Talise might know of it, or might be able to find someone who does.”

When Cassandra said her name, Cullen was unable to keep the longing from his face for a moment, and he tried to school them back into something closer to neutrality.

“I hear from Christopher that they should be back soon Commander”, Cassandra patted his arm consolingly, although a small smile lifted the corner of her lips, “If I may say something?”

“What?”

“It is good to see you care for someone. To have someone.”

A flush darkened Cullen’s features, and he was unable to meet Cassandra’s gaze for a moment. But the smile that curled his mouth was undeniable, “I do care for her.”

“That much is obvious”, Cassandra stated flatly, trying her best to hide her own smile, “And now that I have told you what you needed to know, you must go rest.”

“I still think this is an overreaction. I feel fine now.” He muttered, sighing in defeat as he turned to walk towards the main hall.

“You nearly died Cullen. I think you can take a few days rest.” Cassandra retorted, following Cullen. Once they were in the main hall, the angry voices of the Orlesian nobles could be heard, discussing the events in Val Royeaux, “Besides, when Talise gets here, she will face an angry court, word of what she did has reached the Orlesian ambassador and his retinue.”

Cullen paused, his long strides faltering for a moment. Talise had cut a swath through Val Royeaux, taking out her fear and anger on anyone who crossed her path, and that included a Marquis. Cassandra was right, the Orlesians gathered in Skyhold were angry, shocked over the rumored tactics Talise had used. After a moment he continued towards his quarters, wondering where Talise was, and how much trouble she faced when she returned to Skyhold.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Cassandra and Cullen spoke of Talise, and the origins of the poison that had sickened him, the assassin herself was pulling on her boots. Amelia was still avoiding Rylen, and she had buried herself in several books until late in the night as Talise had written reports and letters. Valissia had found time to learn a new spell, and somehow get her robes perfectly clean and starched by the time morning broke.

Sera and Cole appeared out of thin air seemingly, as Talise sat by the fire, tightening the laces on one of her boots. The three rogues conferred briefly, sharing any new information before Sera and Cole moved to pack their belongings. Talise was examining a dagger with a critical eye, seeing the small imperfection in the blade that needed to be smoothed out, when there was a knock on the door.

Amelia answered, one hand holding the mass of her golden blonde curls up, and took the reports from the scout with the other, murmuring a word of thanks. She exchanged a few words with the scout, pointed to the Inn across the way, and shut the door, tearing apart Leliana’s wax seal and scanning the paper before her.

Her emeraldine gaze widened slightly as she read the words, and then flicked over the words once more, making sure she had read them correctly, before her gaze lifted from the paper, “Talise…”

“I need to stop at the blacksmith before we go. Have him fix this”, Talise responded, lifting her gaze from the dagger to look at Amelia, “What is this?”

“Before… before I tell you. He’s fine.”

“Tell me what?” There was no hiding the panic that rose in Talise’s voice.

“Leliana sent a scout from Skyhold, we got here before she anticipated we would. And everything is fine. But… but…”

Valissia emerged from a small room, her dark auburn hair damp but pulled into a braided bun, her robes packed away, dressed in leather breeches and a long leather vest, clearly meant for riding, “Everything is fine?”

“The assassins.. from the House of Repose. They got to Cullen, he was poisoned.”

Despite Amelia’s warning that Cullen was fine, Talise visibly swayed at the news, her small hand digging into the back of a nearby chair for support. Valissia reached out a hand to her, stretching until her pale fingers were wrapped around Talise’s arm.

"Magdalena was there. According to Leliana, she healed Cullen, but it doesn't say how." Amelia read the rest of the report, scanning the parchment slowly, looking for any visible clues.

“We know how she did it” Valissia whispered the words, her stormy gaze closing for a moment. The idea of Magdalena, openly possessed by a spirit in a castle filled with templars sent chills down Valissia’s spine.

Talise’s hand rose to Valissia’s, and she curled her fingers tightly around the spirit mages.

Amelia frowned, “The report says they couldn’t identify the poison used. The description sounds like that one you used to get out of Nevarra. But the black lines in his skin doesn’t match up.”

Valissia gestured to Amelia, holding her hand out for the report. Like Amelia, she carefully read the parchment, her forehead wrinkling in concerntration, “Black in the veins is that Rivaini herb. But the yellow cast to the skin, that is from that Nevarran poison.”

“So the House of Repose used an outside assassin?” Amelia moved to stand behind Valissia, re-reading the report once again.

“Or they substituted something in the recipe. The House of Repose does not use outside assassins.” Valissia answered, her gaze lifting towards Talise, “Talise?

Talise stood by the fire, her mind swirling, her fingers locked around Valissia's. Memories of her time with Cullen swirled in her mind, slipping from the shadows to be introduced to him, the night he sat with her in the chapel, the night she sat, bleeding on his desk, the times she watched the sky lighten from deepest blue while she laid atop his bed. All the countless moments, staring at each other across the war table, planning missions, the night he asked her to walk through the garden with him. The smell of polished metal armor, the leather of his gloves, oakmoss and elderflower, the smell that seemed etched into her memory now, associated with Cullen.

"I need more time", she whispered, staring at the fire. A squeeze from Valissia's hand brought her back to the moment, she lifted her wide, frightened gaze to look at her friends. The concerned looks shocked her back into herself, she blinked several times, her vision clearing and then sharpening. After a moment, the cool façade of Ghost slid into place, "We need to get a report back to Skyhold, make sure they know what the poisons were, and the antidotes. Send it by raven and by messenger, just to be sure. And then we need to get ready to pack and then leave."

It took a few moments, but Amelia burst out of the bookkeeper's house, clutching two separate parchments. Dodging startled passersby, she ran for the stables, where Rylen was gathering his men, going over final plans for the journey back to Skyhold.

A blur of golden hair and leather-clad legs sailed over a fence, and raced past Rylen, skidding to a stop in the muddy ground a few feet from where a handful of scouts were gathered. By the time Knight-Captain Rylen made it to a mud-splattered Amelia, who was bent over double, heaving air into her lungs, one scout was already mounting a horse, and another was tying a message to a raven.

“Assassins poisoned… Cullen”, Amelia panted between breaths, looking up through a hopeless tangle of wheat colored curls at Rylen, “He’s been healed, but we need to be ready to leave soon.”

Rylen nodded, his sharp, light blue gaze swinging back the way Amelia had come. He knew Talise well enough to know the assassin would not take the news well, the image of the bloodied Orlesian, his face torn off, was still fresh in his mind, “So Cullen is alright then? How did Talise take the news?”

“She’s remarkably calm. Which means she is truly angry and will likely rip the first person who crosses her to shreds.” Finally catching her breath, Amelia straightened, flipping her hair out of her eyes, “And yes, the report from Leliana said that Magdalena healed him, and he should make a full recovery.”

“Magdalena…” Rylen’s voice faltered as he realized the impact of Amelia’s words. As a Rivaini seer, Magdalena operated outside of the rules for most mages, the rules Rylen had been comfortable with, and the idea of a possessed mage sent chills skating down his spine. On the other hand, losing Cullen would be a blow to the Inquisition’s efforts, one they would struggle to come back from, the commander inspired a sense of loyalty and admiration in his soldiers that Rylen had rarely seen.

Amelia knew the look Rylen was wearing, knew the almost instinctive fear of mages, that most had. Within moments, anger was rising in her, and her temper was spiraling out of control, “At least she did something, besides just stand there and worry.”

“So now you want to talk lass?”

Amelia’s serpentstone gaze was wide for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes at Rylen, and shook her head with enough force to send her golden curls flying, “No. We are not talking about you and I now."

"There's you and me?" A dark eyebrow lifted over his hawkish gaze as he looked at her.

“I don’t have time for this!! I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings because I didn’t just fawn all over you. But you know the most painful secret I have. And I have nothing but your word that you won’t tell people.” She huffed in annoyance, her serpentstone gaze rolling towards the roof of the barn as she spoke.

Rylen barely managed to keep the anger from his words, “I told you would I wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m as good as my word.”

“You’re also a templar.” Sighing, Amelia turned, walking towards the door of the barn, one slim hand raking her tumbling golden curls back from her face.

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I’m an apostate mage Rylen. If the next divine reinstates the Circles, you’ll be hunting for me. You or someone like you.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone”, Amelia whirled back to face Rylen, her boots squishing in the mud, "Except for Talise. And Valissia. Talise would stop at nothing to keep Valissia and me out of the Circles."

“And Zevran. You trust an assassin.” Rylen bit the last word out, turning it into something close to an insult.

Golden curls tumbled in artless disarray down her back as she tilted her head back to look up at him, “Are you…. jealous?”

“No, I’m not”, he bit the words out, glaring down at her.

“Liar.” A smile curled one side of Amelia’s lips as she looked up at Rylen. For some reason, some reason she did not want to know, the idea of Rylen jealous made butterflies dance in her stomach.

“I’m not jealous. But he’s an assassin.” Once more the templar made the word sound like an insult as he stared down at Amelia. Something white hot burned within his chest suddenly, something he refused to put a name to.

“So is Talise, you have no problems with her.”

“She’s different.”

“How?? Because Cullen, golden paragon of perfection loves her?”

“I’m not arguing with you about this. We have things we need to be doing.” Rylen walked past Amelia, even as unsettled, angry, jealous, as Amelia made him feel, he still tipped his hat to her as he walked past her.

For a moment Amelia merely gaped at his retreating back, unable to come up with a retort, and she stepped after him, her voice rising, “You started it!! So finish it!!”

"Fine. You refused to even look at me after we talked. If I so much as looked at you, you ran to the other side of the ship. But yet you flirt with some Antivan assassin.” Just at the doors to the barn, Rylen stopped, turning back to face Amelia, who came to a stop in front of him.

“It’s Zevran. Everyone flirts with Zevran.” Once more she rolled her eyes skyward at his words, quickly dismissing them.

“Is that so?” Anger had thickened Rylen’s brogue, his lilting accent flowed through his words as he faced Amelia.

“Zevran flirts with everyone, and everyone flirts with Zevran. It is how he is. I trust him like I trust Talise."

“But you don’t trust me because I’m a templar?”

“No. I don’t trust you because I told you something I shouldn’t have. I have no idea why I told you about Jordan. No one knows about it. But now you know. And it’s…”

“It’s?”

“I distinctly dislike feeling vulnerable. I was happier when you thought I was an outrageous flirt enjoying a fling with Michel. Can we just go back to that?” The truth came tumbling out of Amelia in a rush, and she winced at her words, dropping her forehead into her palm.

“No lass. We cannot.” Rylen shook his head no, folding his arms over her chest as he watched her blonde curls fall over her face.

As Rylen spoke, Amelia realized he was standing far closer to her than she had realized. Even though she was taller than Talise, she still had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and as soon as she did, a familiar flutter raced through her. She took a step backward, intent on putting some space between the two of them, "I don't see why we can't. You know nothing about me, I know nothing about you. You assumed I was just some empty-headed little girl, playing at being in the Inquisition.”

“No lass. I never assumed that. I’ve seen you fight, and train, study new spells.”

“But you thought I was just a little girl?”

“No. Not that either.” There was something in the way Rylen answered that, staring intently at her as she looked up at him, that caused Amelia to back up a step, again.

A blush decorated her cheeks suddenly, warming them, and she stepped around Rylen, not meeting his gaze as she spoke, “Ok, well now that we’ve ended the fight, I’m going to go and… pack. Talise will be anxious to start the journey back, now that she knows about Cullen.”

One hand, strong from years of training, curled around Amelia’s arm, stopping her. The storm mage froze in her tracks, looking down at Rylen’s gloved hand holding her arm, just above her wrist. A tiny shiver ran through her, an almost imperceptible tremble gave her away.

"Go back to Talise, we need to leave quickly. But you and I are not done, Amelia." Rylen let go of Amelia as he spoke, well-aware that she could have easily turned on him, releasing the magic he felt, shimmering through the air.

By the time Amelia made her way back to Talise, the storm mage was fairly vibrating with energy. Everyone else had gone to get any last limit supplies, or headed to the stables where the Inquisition’s mounts were being kept. The bookkeeper’s house was empty, A few contacts have been sent out, a couple ravens sent back to Val Royeaux, but anything else was going to have to wait until their arrival back at Skyhold. Amelia stormed into the bookkeeper's house, stomping towards to the room where she had slept, and snatching up her pack and staff.

Talise sat in a chair in front of her fire, her face buried in her hands, her elbows resting on her leather-clad knees, her sky-touched gaze locked on the flames in the hearth.

“Talise…” Sighing, Amelia stopped, walking over to her friend, and squeezing one shoulder gently.

“I don’t want to do this anymore”, the assassin’s response was muffled, she had not moved when Amelia walked in.

“I know. But you have to. When all this is done, you can be whatever you want to be, and do whatever you want to do. But right now, we have work to do.” Amelia moved until she was squatting in front of her Talise, peering up into the delicate features of the half-Rivaini’s face.

“I just want…” the words trembled in the air, Talise’s voice quiet as she looked at Amelia. Gone was the cold arrogance of Ghost, instead Talise’s gaze shone with fear.

“I know little love. I know”, Amelia leaned forward then, pressing her forehead to Talise’s, “I know what it is like to love someone and lose them. And I will do everything in my power to keep you from going through that."

Talise leaned her forehead against Amelia's, "You know when we were little, the fairytales didn't mention love being this terrifying."

“It is terrifying. But… when you get it right, it’s… intoxicating”, Amelia sighed once more.

“I’m sorry to intrude”, Rylen stepped into the bookkeeper’s house, his gaze flicking over the two women sitting in front of the fire, “But everyone is ready to leave.”

“You’re just waiting on us”, Talise responded, leaning back from Amelia. The storm mage pushed herself to her feet, keeping her gaze focused on Talise.

Rylen nodded, his light blue gaze tracing over Amelia's features, staring at her until she flicked her emeraldine eyes towards him. The collision between their gazes sparked a tension that flared in the room, and Talise paused from tugging her pack over one shoulder, a dark eyebrow arching in Amelia in question.

“It’s nothing… Let’s make for Skyhold, shall we?” Amelia picked up her own pack and then her staff, slipping through the door Rylen held open. She nearly pressed herself against the door frame opposite the templar, but he was still close enough to her that chills slid down her back.

Talise followed Amelia, drawing her black scarf up over her mouth and nose, dropping into the safety of her persona as Ghost as she walked, the sunlight sparkling through her hair in glints of red and gold as she walked. Her summer bright gaze bounced from Amelia to Rylen, who followed behind them, his gaze locked on Amelia’s gleaming tawny curls.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talise faces the consequences of her actions in Val Royeaux, and she receives support from an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo!!!  
> Couple of things, I headcanon that templars are trained in one central location. Given that Alistair and Cullen are roughly the same age, and both trained as templars, they know each other. Plus Alistair was there when the Hero saved the tower (and Cullen.)  
> I love Josephine in game. The animosity between her and Talise is all on Talise.  
> I pulled the oath of fealty from different sources, and cobbled it together, as well as Alistair's response. Who knew I'd actually put college to use in fanfiction??

Talise did not thunder back into Skyhold, instead, she simply slipped through the gates once they were opened and headed straight for the barn. She was grateful for the quiet entry back into the keep, the trumpets and cheers when Christopher arrived back always made her feel uneasy, she was still unused to being the center of attention. As soon as she passed the reins of her mount to a stable boy, Blackwall put down his chisel and walked over to her.

“I don’t know what you did in Val Royeaux, but the Orlesian ambassador is rather upset.” The warden said without preamble, his eyes dark with concern, “Did you really kill a noble? Or is that just idle gossip?”

Talise sighed, rubbing her temples with a gloved hand, "He was alive when we left him."

"I don't care if he was or wasn't. But you need to know, you've kicked up a hornets' nest. The Orlesians want you to fully account for your actions in front of the full court".

“Maker damn the full court”, Amelia hissed the words out, stopping behind Talise, “That noble they’re so concerned about was an agent for the Venatori.”

Blackwall nodded to Amelia’s words, “They’ll back down once that comes out, I’d wager.”

“And the Herald has not put a stop to this?” Valissia spoke the words tightly as she tugged her pack off her horse, nodding in thank you to the stable boy that stood waiting for her mount.

"Well, there was a debate about that. Most of us feel he needs to tell that over-stuffed armchair of an ambassador to shove off. But Josephine is concerned about escalating the problem further." Blackwall gestured towards the main keep with his hand.

The Warden’s words had gone unheard, Talise had frozen in place, staring out of the barn. Cullen was coming down the steps to the lower courtyard, stepping around several merchants as he walked. Despite the seriousness of what Blackwall had told her, Talise dropped her pack, and was out of the barn, tugging her scarf off her face. There was no hesitation this time, she burst from the barn, a blur of blackened leather armor and dark hair, into the sunshine, uncaring who saw her.

Cullen’s brow was furrowed with concern as he walked. The Orlesian nobles were growing more agitated by the hour, the Fereldan nobles taking advantage of the situation, the main keep was a flurry of whispered conversations, while the Orlesian ambassador expressed his outrage at Talise’s actions in private to Josephine and Christopher. Master Dennet had sent a stable boy running to Cullen’s quarters over the portcullis as soon as Talise had come into the stables, knowing the commander would want to see her.

When she raced from the barn though, his concern over the intrigue playing out in the keep vanished. That soft, warm feeling that squeezed around his heart when Talise near came to him again, and he took the final steps to her, catching her small frame in his muscled arms, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head, his fingers getting tangled in her chocolate dark hair.

Talise's still gloved hands slid over Cullen's armored shoulders, up his cheekbones, and into his hair, mussing it thoroughly as she looked up at him, "Are you alright? We didn't get word that you'd been poisoned until we landed at Jader, and there was nothing I could do."

“I’m fine Talise. Magdalena saw to that”, He tightened his arm around her waist, holding her to him. Once more he wished he could hide her, tuck her somewhere safe, until the war, the machinations, until it was all over, and she would be safe once more, “You need to know…”

“I know, Blackwall told me. And I don’t care.” With her teeth she tugged one glove free, dropping it on the ground, followed by the other, letting her fingertips trail over the stubble on Cullen’s cheeks.

“You need to care Talise, the nobles are upset.” Despite his words, Cullen sighed at her touch, letting his forehead rest against hers.

“My only regret is that I did not stop the assassins before they got here”, she whispered the words fiercely, clinging to his shoulders.

Amelia walked from the barn, picking up both Talise’s pack and her own, followed by Valissia. Zevran had come in with them and had slipped off the rookery as soon as he could. As she stood there, a streak of mud decorating one light golden cheek, her ponytail a mass of tangled ringlets, Rylen watched her from across the courtyard. Her gaze collided with his, and for a moment every emotion she felt; want, pain, and some indescribable need was plainly visible in her emeraldine gaze.

As Cullen and Talise held each other, uncaring of the people around them, Cassandra emerged from the keep, and hurried down the stairs, making her way down towards the stables. Amelia met the Seeker on the steps leading towards the lower courtyard, grateful for the distraction away from Rylen and his disconcerting gaze.

"The Orlesian nobles are accusing Talise of murder," Cassandra said with her normal bluntness, although she was angry, her face tight with annoyance.

“Over the Marquis?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we give them some time?”

“No Amelia, we cannot.”

“Do they want her in shackles then as well?” Amelia could not keep the bite out of her words as she spoke, glaring up towards the keep.

“Cassandra, the man was an agent for Corypheus. We have the proof.” Rylen spoke then, coming to stand behind on the stone steps. As Rylen spoke, Amelia dug through one of the packs she was carrying, producing a packet of letters, papers, all the evidence they had on the Marquis DuPlessis.

“Here. He was regularly corresponding with Corypheus’ lieutenants. And he was leading the ring smuggling red lyrium into Val Royeuax.” Amelia fought to keep from reacting to Rylen’s presence, and it was only when Michel appeared, hurriedly walking towards them, that her demeanor changed, her eyes narrowing in a sudden rush of anger.

“I am sorry mon petit. I was with the Orlesian ambassador when you arrived”, Michel’s gaze was contrite as he looked at Amelia, “They want me to make sure Talise is brought in to explain her actions.”

The air crackled with energy, with the faint smell of ozone for a moment, before Amelia heaved a breath into her lungs, and closed her eyes, counting backward from a hundred. After a few seconds, lashes lift, revealing a furious gleam in her serpentstone gaze, "After everything Talise has done, for the Inquisition, for all of us, and this is how she is treated?"

"She killed a nobleman Talise." Michel sighed, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. Even after his fall from grace, the former chevalier was shocked over the stories coming out of Val Royeaux.

“She did not kill him, he was alive when we left!!” Amelia’s voice rose to a shout, and she no longer cared about attracting attention. Once more the smell of ozone hung in the air, and for a split-second electricity danced between Amelia’s fingers.

Rylen gripped her upper arm tightly, hard enough to get Amelia’s attention, and leaned down to murmur a few words in her gently curving ear, “Lass, be careful. People can hear and see you. What you say here, will be used against Talise.”

From further behind the small group gathered, Cullen coughed, clearly not happy with the situation. Despite appearances, he had his arm wrapped around Talise, holding the mud-splattered assassin against him. Standing at his full height, the Commander cut an imposing figure, “This is ridiculous. But Christopher has yet to put a stop to it, so if we must do this, then we must do this.”

As he walked across the courtyard, Christopher sighed, he had been dreading this moment since the Orlesian ambassador and several nobles came to him with letters from Val Royeaux, all claiming Talise had murdered a noble in cold blood. Telling Valissia was suddenly harder than expected, "The Orlesians have accused Talise of murdering the Marquis du Plessis."

For a moment, Valissia said nothing, her lashes falling shut as she blinks several times. Her stormy gaze automatically lifted to Talise, and then Amelia, standing on the steps further ahead, before she looked up at Christopher, “And you haven’t put a stop to this?”

“Josephine is concerned about it causing a potential incident…”

"Josephine the reason why we were in Val Royeaux in the first place", Valissia retorted icily, one hand rising to her temples and rubbing there.

It was Talise who spoke then, seeking to calm the rising tension in Amelia, and Valissia, “It’s fine. They have the right to questions. Herald, do you want to do this in the main hall or in the war room?”

Before Christopher could answer, a blast of trumpets cut through the crisp mountain air. From the gates, there were shouts of "Make way for the King", and the gate was hastily raised by a group of Inquisition soldiers. The incident involving the Marquis was quickly forgotten, as soldiers scrambled to attention, and people gawked. The royal banner of Ferelden, mabari prominently displayed, came through the gates, followed by the royal guard, who rode in a tight, precise circle.

Talise had time to share a shocked glance with Cullen, her dark eyebrows rising up her forehead in disbelief before a gleam of armor caught her eye. Astride a warhorse, wearing armor polished to perfection, looking very much like a bronzed statue, sat Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden.  

Josephine and the Fereldan nobles had nearly tripped over each other getting out of the main hall, past the wide open doors. One hand pressed to her heart, the Antivan ambassador sputtered to a stop on the stairs, her eyes wide with shock. Behind her streamed the nobles and dignitaries visiting the Inquisition, all of them coming to a rather comical stop on the wide stone steps.

There was a moment before Alistair slid from his warhorse, where the courtyard was completely quiet. No hushed whispering, no talking, every eye was on the king as he surveyed the courtyard and keep from his horse. Tension built in the courtyard, spiraling higher and higher before finally, someone dropped to a knee, and then everyone followed suit.

Valissia dropped to a perfect curtsey, managing to look somehow look elegant and polished even in robes stained from traveling. Christopher, standing next to her, dropped to one knee, and the movement rippled through the crowds. Cullen wince as his joints protested while he kneeled, and Talise held out a hand, he found himself clinging to her hand as tightly as she was clinging to his in return. Within moments, every single soul in the courtyard had bowed to the royal presence.

“Make way for the King!!!”, just as Alistair’s booted foot touched the ground, a page shouted the words, which echoed across the courtyard, breaking the stillness. Alistair stretched, allowing himself a moment to relax, before he straightened, and walked with an imposing stride straight for the stairs. He had not wanted to be king, originally, had run from the idea of it, but now, hardened to the idea, and after a decade on the throne, he very much looked the part. Maric Theirin’s bastard son faced the crowds with squared shoulders, head held high, and a commanding look in his warm brown gaze. Among the faces, he recognized Cullen, and it was to the Commander of the Army he walked.

“Commander, I am sorry for the abrupt arrival. I have brought you some troops and… “Alistair’s voice faltered, paused, and then his sentence cut off abruptly. Talise was looking up at him, peering at him through twin fans of dark lashes, with eyes the exact same as Jordan. Those same eyes, bright and inquisitive, had peeked up at him from the shadows of a hood, the day the Ghost of Ferelden had broken into his castle, delivering to him proof of a rebellion. He owed his throne, and his life, to the woman standing beside Cullen. Taking a breath, he looked back at Cullen, nodding as the former templar rose to standing once more, “Supplies. I thought you could use them.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty”, Cullen stuttered a bit, before he remembered his training and manners, bowing once more, “Anything Ferelden could bring us is greatly appreciated.”

“You are more than welcome. I am sorry it has taken me so long to get this to you. Unfortunately, the nobles in Denerim are worried about Orlesian influence on the Inquisition. I think we have more pressing matters to deal with, however”, Alistair responded, turning to face Talise. Even standing a step or so above him, Alistair still towered over the dark-haired assassin. Gently he reached for her hand, lifting it to brush a kiss against the scar that ran across the back of it, “Talise, I am so sorry about Jordan. I lost a friend that day, but it pales in comparison to what you lost. Your family’s sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Talise, unused to such formal attention, unused to the attention of any kind, blushed to the curved tops of her ears, her cheeks turning pink, and she dropped her brilliant gaze from Alistair's face, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"We're past formalities Talise, I think." Still bent over her hand, he looked up at her, "If the gossip I heard on the way in is any indication, I think my arrival is rather… fortuitous."

“You heard?” Talise’s bright eyes widened slightly, even as she kept her delicate features neutral, aware that everyone in the courtyard was watching them.

“That the Orlesians are accusing you of murdering a noble for the betterment of the Inquisition?”, He responded, nodding as he let go of her hand, “Yes I heard. I’m not leaving until this matter is cleared up. And we have had time to speak about your title.”

Cullen caught Christopher’s eye, and motioned to him, Valissia was tugged along behind Christopher, despite her sudden unwillingness to go with him. Cullen stepped towards him, standing beside the Herald, “This is Christopher Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, and the Inquisitor.”

“We’ve spoken, once, but I haven’t had the pleasure of an introduction”, Alistair nodded to the man, a smile curling his lips when he saw Valissia half-hidden behind one of Christopher’s powerful arms, “It’s been too long since you and Talise and Amelia sat in my court giggling about something or another Valissia.”

The spirit mage blushed as hotly as Talise had, curtseying once more, her gaze round with shock as she looked at Talise and Amelia. Alistair followed her gaze past Talise to see Amelia standing on the steps ahead of Cassandra, a slight frown marred his brow as took her in, Rylen’s hand was still tight around her arm, “Amelia, it has been too long.”

Amelia nodded, suddenly rendered mute by Alistair’s arrival, her emeraldine gaze wide as she looked at him. One gloved hand rose to her face, rubbing hopelessly at the dried mud on her cheek, while a rosy blush started somewhere beneath the collar of her tunic shirt, and slid up her face to her hairline.

“Your Majesty, how unexpected and wonderful that you have come to visit us”, recovered from her shock, Josephine rushed down the steps, followed by the Ferelden nobles, who jockeyed to the be the first to greet the King.

Alistair nodded to everyone standing in front of him, before allowing himself to be swept away by the nobles and Josephine. Talise stood rooted her spot on the steps, her eyes wide with shock and she looked up towards Cullen.

“I think… I think….” Talise stuttered, unable to come up with a smooth reply, shocked that Alistair was here in Skyhold, shocked that he knew, already of the charges from the Orlesian’s, and unsure of exactly what was going on.

“Bath.” Amelia spoke then, sliding out from underneath Rylen’s grip, and ignoring the pointed look on Michel’s face, “We need to get in a bath, and changed and be formally presented to the king.”

“Amelia’s right… Maker this is awful, I look a mess”, Valissia stuttered, gesturing to her muddied robes, and then her hair, her auburn tresses hanging half-loose from the braided bun she had woven them into, “Talise, you’ll be the center of attention, so you need the most work. Come on.”

“Inquisitor, you need to be meeting with the King”, Cassandra spoke, her eyes almost as comically round as Talise’s had been moments earlier. Christopher nodded, following Cassandra towards the main keep, followed by Cullen and Michel.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cullen, what happened?” Alistair had spent time touring the keep, as the soldiers he had brought with him were folded into the Inquisition’s army. Standing near the throne, and with a screen of the royal guard, no one was approaching them, affording the former templars a small measure of privacy.

“With… what Your Majesty?” Standing close to the dais, in front of the throne, Cullen looked up from the reports he was reading. By the time he was done touring the keep and campgrounds outside of it with Alistair, a rather large stack of reports waited for him.

“We trained together, I think it’s alright if you forget decorum and call me Alistair. With Talise. Why are the Orlesians so angry with her?” Alistair smiled, despite the stress of the situation, at Cullen’s words. They had known each for years, having met during templar training, and Alistair held Cullen in high regard.

Cullen sighed, reaching a powerful hand up to rub at the back of his neck, an old habit that the king recognized, “There was a contract on Josephine, something from her family’s past. The House of Repose sent assassins to fill the contract. Talise went to the Val Royeaux to try and get into the Repose vaults and get the contract.”

Alistair nodded, his brown gaze focused intently on Cullen, absorbing every word, “By herself?”

“Officially? Yes. Unofficially she took two of the companions with her, both rogues, as well as Valissia and Amelia.” Cullen had never been happy with this part of the plan, and it showed now on his face as he spoke of it.

“The three of them have been close for years.” Alistair nodded, the light from torches and lamps during his hair redder as listened to Cullen.

Cullen nodded, “Knight-Captain Rylen took a small contingent of soldiers, to aid a Comtesse with some matter. But also to be close should Talise need help. She got into the vault, got the contract on Josephine, and found one on…. Me.”

Alistair took a deep breath, quickly piecing together the events from them, “Let me guess… this Marquis is the one who took the contract out on you?”

“Yes. And in addition, they found proof he was working for Corypheus while they were at his estate.”

“What exactly did she do? Poison him?”

“From what I understand, she let her eagle torture him.”

For a moment, Alistair lost the persona of a royal, and blinked several times, before he could respond, “Eagle?? That bird she rescued the last time she was in Rivain? She had it with her when she came through Denerim once. I remember it was this tiny ball of fluff, such an ugly little thing.”

Cullen nodded, biting back a chuckle, "It's full grown now. With a wingspan wider than Talise is tall. Of course, Talise named it Demon."

Alistair snorted at the name, shaking his head ruefully, “Maker… the nobles are going to be up in arms about this.”

Cullen handed off his reports to a soldier nearby, unable to focus on the words in them any longer. His amber eyes swung back to Alistair, and a blush decorated his cheeks as he spoke of Talise, "Will this effect… her… title. I know she has made the same offer for fealty that Jordan did."

“Her being an agent for the Inquisition complicates things. Then again, Talise being Ghost complicates things. She seems to complicate things just by breathing.” Alistair lifted one armor-clad shoulder in a shrug, long used to dealing with the Fereldan court.

Cullen sucked in a breath, fighting to keep his features neutral at Alistair’s casual mention of Talise being the Ghost of Ferelden, “You…. knew?”

Alistair nodded, smiling at Cullen, “The morning Ghost broke into my personal quarters, interrupted my bath, and left proof of a rebellion fermenting among my nobles, I noticed something.”

“And what was that?”

“The Ghost of Ferelden has very unusual eyes. I had seen them on one other person.” With a small gesture, Alistair nodded towards his royal guards.

“Her brother.” Realization crept into Cullen’s warm amber eyes. Talise’s looks, she was exceedingly attractive, with those brilliant blue eyes, marked her as different.

“Yes. So I started doing some research. Jordan often complained about Talise traveling and being frivolous. Like most older brothers, he never believed his baby sister could or would get up to something like she was.”

“Research?” Cullen frowned in confusion, lines knotting his tawny eyebrows together.

“I had people looking for Ghost, tracking her movements. When Jordan complained that she was in Starkhaven, flirting around with Sebastian Vael, I looked at the kills we believed Ghost had made.”

“And there was a target there?”

Alistair nodded, nodding in return to a Fereldan noble that waited nearby, "She had chased some man up there, and then chased him back down to Kirkwall. In Kirkwall, he signed over his fortune to his elven servants, before confessing to beating the young daughter of one of his servants. The young girl was left crippled for life. And then he drank poison, seemingly killing himself.”

“I remember that one. The guards were baffled by it”, Cullen blinked, his gaze swinging towards the hallway the baths were on, where he knew Talise was being scrubbed clean, “That was her?”

“According to my Spymaster, the family had been in contact with the Ghost of Ferelden before the merchant died. But they swore they had done nothing. They disappeared before they could be questioned further.”

“Balancing the scales.” Understanding the situation now, Cullen nodded. He remembered what had happened in Kirkwall, the city guards baffled by the man's actions, but no one had been able to prove one way or another what had happened. 

“Pardon?” Alistair frowned, his warm brown gaze flicking over to Cullen.

“Talise works to balance the scales. If you tracked her kills, you know she doesn’t take a contract just for profit. There was a templar, in the Free Marches.” Cullen turned, facing Alistair as he spoke, ignoring the growing crowd in the hallway.

Alistair nodded in agreement, “In Markham. She tracked him there and brought him back to his family. That story spread like wildfire through Denerim, cemented the Ghost as a hero among the freeholders.”

“What are you going to do?” The tension was growing thicker in the main hall with each passing moment, the whispers growing to a low murmur, and Cullen was unable to help from ask.

“Do you trust me?”

“Alistair…”

The former templar, now king, held up an enormous hand, "I see nothing wrong with what she did. The Inquisition has been all too quick to use her, for her contacts, her skills. This… incident with the nobleman, that is completely in character for Talise.”

Cullen nodded, sighing heavily, “She goes out of her way to spare those she can, but she is ruthless when she has to be.”

“She’s a Montgomery. Hale was this giant of a man, laughed all the time, told the best jokes, and would split a man in half with his sword at a moments notice. Jordan was the same way. I intend to honor her family, and her, by protecting her the best way I can.”

“About Jordan…” Cullen sighed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck once more.

“Yes?”

“Talise believes that Jordan was hiding who she was from you, and the guilt drove him here, as a way to atone for his lies.” Even speaking the words out loud made Cullen’s heart ache, he knew the guilt Talise carried, knew that it was guilt that drove her, that pushed her to work harder and faster.

Alistair swore softly, closing his eyes for a moment, “Maker… She thinks she is responsible for his death then.”

“She does. She came here expecting the Herald to put her to death for her crimes.” Cullen nodded in agreement, his amber eyes scanning through the crowds gathering.

“Why didn’t she come to Denerim and turn herself in there?”

“Would you have put her to death?”

“Of course not! Sent her to Nightreach until things cooled off. I’m not going to have her executed for being Ghost. She saved my life.”

Cullen nodded, watching the nobles and dignitaries in the main hall whispering amongst themselves.

“I’m sorry, I had some Inquisition business to attend to.” Christopher slipped past the guards, who moved just enough to let him onto the raised platform his throne sat on.

“I have some questions, if you don’t mind, Inquisitor.” Alistair turned from watching the crowds, to the Herald, pinning the man with an imposing look from his brown eyes.

“Of course Your Majesty.” Christopher sat back on his dragon maw throne.

Alistair’s armored clinked quietly as the king moved, crossing his arms over his chest, “Why have you not put a stop to this nonsense with Talise?”

“There was concern that if we said anything, it would only make matters worse.” For a moment, Christopher said nothing, and one large hand rubbed at his temples as he spoke.

“So instead you’re acquiescing to the demands of the Orlesians? Concerning a Fereldan?” Alistair did not move, and kept his voice low, but his words still carried a hint of his irritation.

Christopher winced at Alistair’s words, his fingers digging into his temples harder, “What exactly was I supposed to do? She tortured a man for information, in clear view of several other people, all of whom could be forced to admit to what she did.”

“War is often a bloody affair, Herald. You’re young, you may not understand this.” Alistair shook his head, heaving a sigh as he turned away from the Inquisitor’s throne.

Before Christopher could answer with a retort, Valissia slipped into the main hallway. Her auburn hair, freshly washed, was woven into a braided bun, she was wrapped in a pair of fresh new robes, and her staff was in her hand. Although she nodded at Cullen and acknowledged Alistair, she refused to meet the Herald's gaze and instead went to stand with Magdalena. A few moments later, Amelia emerged from a side hallway, her blonde curls still damp, and with a resolute look in her emeraldine gaze, she stepped past Michel and stood next to Magdalena, just ahead of Cassandra.

A shadow, a flicker of movement, at the doors to the main keep, gave Talise’s presence away, a hushed whisper rippled through the crowd that was gathered, as she waited patiently in the doorway. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, a familiar black scarf was wrapped around her face, hiding her features but emphasizing her bright sky-touched eyes. Wrapped in black armor, a long, charcoal gray cloak stretched out behind her, she was every inch the assassin.

Leliana stood beside her, as did a familiar blonde-haired elf. Together, the spymaster, the Ghost of Ferelden, and the former Antivan Crow made their way up the long carpet of the main hall. Alistair’s gaze widened in recognition, as he saw Zevran, and then narrowed slightly, it was the barest hint of a rection, but it earned him a smirk from Zevran nonetheless. At a murmur from the king, the royal guards dispersed to the sides of the dais, and he stepped to one side just as Josephine slipped past him, carrying her familiar parchment and writing board.

Talise came to a stop just in front of the steps leading up to the dais, her hands folded carefully in front of her. For a moment Cullen was reminded of the morning she stood for judgment, broken and feeling alone, and his hands clenched into fists as he stood beside Alistair, fighting to keep from stepping towards her. Then her chin lifted, tilting to an almost arrogant degree, and she sneered at the Orlesian ambassador, who had stepped back in almost fright when she made her way to the dais. Her bright gaze gleamed with defiance over the top of her black scarf as she looked at Josephine, and then Christopher.

Silently, Amelia slipped from her place, stepped behind Iron Bull, and then walked up the carpeted pathway. Valissia followed her, glaring at Christopher has she came to a stop beside Amelia, both behind Talise. At the sound of soft foot-steps, Talise had looked over her shoulder, her summer bright gaze widening as she shook her head no, only for her response to be ignored by both her friends.

Before Josephine could speak, her pen poised over her paper, Alistair moved, stepping past his guards, and came to a stop in front of Talise. He turned then, facing the throne Christopher sat rather uncomfortably, his broad chest and shoulders blocking Talise from view completely, before he spoke, lifting his voice so that it carried through the main hall, “If you will allow me a moment, Inquisitor, there is something I need to do before Talise is… questioned.”

Christopher faced a dilemma, either continue on as planned, and insult the king, possibly losing the support of Ferelden, or to allow Alistair this moment, the Herald frowned, realizing he had no possible outcome that pleased everyone but nodded. Josephine smiled, but her gaze flicked to Leliana, and the Spymaster raised one shoulder in a shrug.

“For over 20 years now, the sacrifices of the Montgomery family have echoed through Ferelden. Hale Montgomery, who fell at Ostagar. Catherine Montgomery died in Denerim, trying to save as many as she could from the archdemon. Jordan Montgomery died at Haven, trying to protect others from the threat we now know is Corypheus”, Alistair reached out, laying a hand on Talise’s armor-clad shoulder. The room had grown silent, except for the faint scribbling of Josephine’s quill pen across paper.

“Talise Montgomery is many things, but she is the last living member of House Montgomery. After her brother saved my life, I raised him to a Bann. Talise found proof of a rebellion and brought it personally to me, at great risk to herself, to see to it that I knew, and could take action. I owe her as much as I owe her brother. I owe her my very life”, Alistair looked down at Talise, smiling with great affection, and waited for a beat, before spoke again, “Kneel Talise.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room at Alistair's words. Cullen's eyes widened slightly, even as he realized what Alistair was doing, by accepting Talise's oath of fealty, personally, in Skyhold, he was sending the signal that she was under the protection of the royal house. Any perceived slight would be Alistair's to bear, any punishment his to mete out, but she was now beyond the grasp of the Orlesians. For the first time since he had fallen to the assassin’s poison, Cullen felt it easier to breathe, the knot of tension in his neck relaxed. He kept his gaze locked on Talise, who was standing wide-eyed in front of Alistair; when she looked at him, the commander nodded in approval.

 “Traditionally, the oath of fealty is taken with any members of the noble house together. You have both lived in Nightreach.” Alistair fought to keep a smile off his face as he spoke to the mages, not lifting his hand from Talise’s head. In the span of a breath, Valissia and then Amelia dropped to their knees behind Talise, reaching for each other’s hands and holding on tightly. Leliana and Zevran withdrew to the side, leaving the three women, along with the King of Ferelden the center of attention.

For a moment Talise did not speak, did not move, a rising tide of panic kept her from speaking, and then she broke with tradition, lifting her head enough to look up at Alistair pleadingly. Cullen took a step forward before Josephine could catch his arm, unable to take the look in Talise’s eyes.

“If you would like, you can have those who have supported you with you. Whomever you choose Talise”, Alistair looked over his shoulder at Cullen, and grinned, for a moment he looked very much like the young templar in training the commander had known.

Talise turned her gaze to Cullen, and the depth of the emotion there hit him almost as hard as a physical blow. He moved, shaking off Josephine’s hand, uncaring of the whispers among the court as he moved, feeling a blush heat his cheeks as he found himself being scrutinized and stared at. In a few strides, he was behind Talise, and he sunk to his knees, his armor clinking as he moved. Cullen reached out with a gloved hand and rested it on Talise's shoulder, and a tremor ran through her frame at his touch.

“When you’re ready Talise”, Alistair murmured the words, his gaze lifting to the crowd watching them. Every single person was staring at Talise, who had not moved, her hands clasped together, only when he was sure that every person would hear Talise speak, that there would no doubt of her place in Ferelden, did Alistair step back from the assassin, leaving her kneeling in a puddle of golden candlelight.

 “I, Talise Elizabeth Montgomery, daughter of Ser Hale Montgomery and Catherine, sister of Lord Jordan Montgomery, Bann of Nightreach”, her voice wavered on her brother’s name, as she swore that oath that would give her the title he had earned. Proof she was still grieving for her brother echoed in her words, and she paused for a moment, sucking a breath into her lungs.

“Promise on my faith that I will in the future be faithful to Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, to never cause him harm and will observe my homage to him completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit”, as she spoke the words, Talise raised her hands, which had been clasped tightly against her chest, upwards towards Alistair, although she kept her head bowed as she spoke.

Talise held her hands clasped up before the king of Ferelden, her head bowed, and behind her, the court watched with bated breath. Magdalena, one hand clasped at her throat, watched with a knowing gleam in her dark eyes, the companions all watched intently. Dorian had a hand on Iron Bull’s massive wrist, clinging tightly, and the Qunari spared him a glance out of the corner of his eye. Vivienne and Solas watched closely, and Varric had a quill pen in his hand, intent on recording every moment of this. Blackwall held a hand on Sera’s arm, the elf had nearly charged up to the dais behind Talise, unwilling to let the assassin face the court alone, and Cole lingered in the shadows nearby.

Alistair tugged his other glove off, and then reached for Talise, cupping her outstretched hands in both of his large ones. Her small hands were swallowed up by his as he stepped to her, “I, Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, do accept your promise of loyalty. I promise on my faith to offer you my protection, in return for your loyalty. Whatever House Montgomery needs, it will be given.”

As Alistair has spoken, Talise lifted her chin, and he smiled down at her as he spoke, then let go of her hand, and reached for her arm. Gently the king pulled Talise to her feet, and as she moved, Cullen lifted her from the other arm, until she was standing on wobbly knees. Behind her, Valissia and Amelia stood as well, still clinging to each other’s hands.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” Talise murmured the words, looking slightly wide-eyed up at Alistair.

“Inquisitor, Lady Josephine, Commander Rutherford, Sister Nightingale, and all who have been here to witness this, may I present”, as he spoke, Alistair turned Talise, until she was facing the court. She looked at her friends, and then the companions, all of whom were smiling broadly, at her aunt, and finally at Cullen, as he rose from his knees, and stood in front of her, “Lady Talise Elizabeth Montgomery. Bann of Nightreach.”

There was a ripple of astonishment through the crowd. Alistair had challenged tradition, changed the protocol the nobles followed, and the Ferelden ambassador looked shocked. Equally as shocked was the Orlesian ambassador, who looked at the Orlesian’s standing behind him. The soldiers, merchants, the servants, whom Talise had taken the time to get to know, more at ease with commoners than nobility, reacted with applause. Bull’s Chargers, crammed into a corner of the hallway, erupted into raucous shouts and cheers, and Talise smiled, a blush riding on her cheeks. The main hall filled with clapping and congratulations, before settling back down as Alistair held up a hand.

He stepped away from Talise, who reached out a hand to Cullen, uncaring of the eyes watching her. As the assassin stepped to the Commander’s side, Alistair faced Christopher. The Herald sat slightly stunned on the throne, the Trevelyans were no strangers to the manners and etiquette of court. Talise’s fealty ceremony, as it was, had broken many rules of etiquette; but the full enormity of what had happened was bearing down on the Inquisitor with the force of a blow from a giant’s club. Talise was now a member of the peerage, answerable to the King himself, she had sworn no other oath to any other Arl or Teryn. Alistair had done this in full view of the court, which had assembled demanding answers to the events at Val Royeaux.

There was no doubt that the Ghost of Ferelden had the support of the King of Ferelden, and Alistair had placed Talise out of reach of almost everyone. The Herald exchanged a look with Josephine, knowing the ambassador would understand well what had just been done, and what how it would impact the Inquisition. As Alistair turned back to them, she curtsied briefly, and Christopher nodded.

"As Talise is a member of the nobility of Ferelden, and has sworn fealty directly to me, any dishonor the Orlesian ambassador has spoken of falls onto me. Her actions are a direct reflection of the throne", Alistair spoke again, flicking a knowing glance behind him at Talise and Cullen.

Cullen drew Talise to him, one muscular arm curled tight around her frame as he listened to Alistair speak. Talise leaned against him in return, but stood on her own, although her small fingers dug into the commander’s surcoat.

“She is not being judged for her actions. The Orlesian ambassador had concerns and wanted them addressed”, Josephine spoke smoothly, smiling gently at Talise.

"I am aware of what the Orlesian has said. I will stand with her as she answers these questions", Alistair beckoned Talise forward, and she slowly withdrew from Cullen's side to come to a stand before him. Cullen stepped behind her, in an echo of that first morning, one leather-gloved hand curling around her arm.

“Now, I think we have wasted everyone’s time enough, let’s get these concerns addressed”, Alistair said, nodding toward the Orlesian ambassador as he spoke.

Talise lifted her chin as she looked at Christopher. Once more she was Ghost, her eyes gleamed almost arrogantly as she looked at the Herald and Josephine, meeting his gaze coolly and without the deferential air so many treated Christopher with, “I will answer all of the ambassador’s questions. But he isn’t going to like the answers he gets.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We actually get to the reason why Talise is answering questions. 
> 
> Also, yeah, there's some smut here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update. The words just got stuck, and I value sleep over writing. Now that things are slowing down for me, I may get to updating more often.

 It took Josephine a moment to compose herself, she had been left staring wide-eyed as Alistair made Talise a Bann. Aware that every soul was looking at her, the Antivan ambassador cleared her throat, and one hand rose to smooth her hair, an automatic gesture, “Talise, you’ve been brought her to answer a few questions, openly in court, about the events surrounding your recent… trip to Val Royeaux.”

Talise kept her chin tilted to an almost defiant degree as she stared at Christopher, answering Josephine’s question without taking her stony glare from the Herald, “I am aware.”

“Can you tell the court, what was your original purpose in going to Val Royeaux?”

“To get the contract on your life out of the vaults belonging to the House of Repose. You’re welcome”, Talise held her gaze until Christopher shifted slightly, and only when the Inquisitor was more uncomfortable than he had been, did she look to Josephine.

A murmur went through the crowd at Talise’s words. Cassandra smiled despite herself, sharing a grin with Iron Bull. Magdalena found herself squeezing Dorian’s hand, and the Tevinter mage bit back a grin at Talise’s sharp retort.

“Thank you for your help in that matter. Did you succeed in getting what you were after?” Josephine nodded as she spoke, trying to keep her face neutral, wanting desperately to please the Orlesians while at the same point in time not angering Talise further.

“I did.”

“Did you find anything else in the vaults of interest?”

“An Orlesian nobleman had taken out a contract on Commander Rutherford. Assassins had been dispatched to Skyhold to fulfill the contract as I was making my way to Val Royeaux.” The words had stuck slightly for Talise, and she unconsciously shifted her weight back towards Cullen as she spoke them. Even just retelling the events brought her emotions, almost always tightly controlled and kept hidden under the guise of Ghost, to the surface.

Josephine's features softened as she watched Talise lean, almost imperceptibly, towards Cullen. She knew that Talise's anger was really fear, that the assassin was terrified of losing Cullen and that Cullen was equally afraid of losing Talise in return. “Did you track this nobleman down?”

Josephine’s questions, and Talise’s answers, carefully laid out what had transpired in Val Royeuax. The emotions behind it, the anger, the fear, Talise had felt, unable to get back to Cullen, to protect him from a well-calculated attack, roiled beneath the surface. Cullen kept his hand around Talise’s arm, squeezing slightly when her voice wavered, or when her answers were too sharp. Alistair stood beside Cullen, listening intently to questions and answers, one hand resting on Talise’s armor-clad shoulder.

Valissia and Amelia stayed quiet, although Valissia’s stormy gaze was thunderous as she glared silently at Christopher, several times the Inquisitor blinked and looked away from the anger in her gaze. Amelia folded her arms over her chest, and one booted foot tapped lightly on the carpet, as she fought to keep her irritation under control.

There was no longer any way around the questions, and Josephine sighed, having to get to the heart of the matter, “There has been an accusation that you let the eagle you have with you eat this man’s… face.”

“She does not eat human flesh. She did rip part of his cheek off, and she pulled out one eye.” Talise answered with a smirk as the crowd gasped at her words, several women fanning themselves.

“But you did let your pet torture a man?” Josephine blanched at Talise’s answer, her golden tan skin turning pale.

Talise shook her head at Josephine, “Demon is not a pet.”

“Is there a reason why you took this court of action?”

“The Marquis DuPlessis was working for Corypheus. He was smuggling red lyrium into Val Royeuax. And took the contract out on Cull.. Commander Rutherford, to try and weaken the Inquisition.”

“You have proof of this?”

Talise nodded, “I gave all of my information to Leliana, as I always do.”

“Talise’s information has never been wrong before, and I trust that the same is true here. Also, there are several people who can verify what they saw at the estate”, Leliana spoke then, “We do know there are several Venatori smuggling red lyrium into Val Royeaux. If Talise has stopped even one of them, that is a good thing.”

As Leliana spoke, Zevran slipped up behind her, and Knight-Captain Rylen stepped away from the small group of templars that had gathered, walking up the carpeted stretch of hallway. Both men stopped behind Amelia and Valissia, Rylen clearly angered by the questions, Zevran kept his features smooth, although he smirked at the Orlesians, who stood clustered together.

The Orlesian ambassador finally stepped forward, avoiding Talise’s sharp gaze as he spoke, “Members of the nobility are afforded better treatment than the Marquis.”

“Well if you’re hoping for an apology it’s not happening”, Talise turned, pinning the man with a glare, “I refuse to apologize for killing any person associated with Corypheus and his Venatori.”

“You did not know”, the ambassador protested, “No one knew what he was doing.”

“Let me assure you”, Talise said smoothly, “I knew. I knew he had taken out the contract on Commander Rutherford. I knew he was an agent for the Venatori. I knew he was smuggling red lyrium, we had seen crates of it in his estate.”

“You acted the way you did because Commander Rutherford is your lover. You tortured a man because he had threatened someone you love.”

Talise lifted a dark eyebrow in question, but before she answers Josephine stepped forward, "Have you done this before? Let Demon do the work for you?”

“Not Demon.”, Talise lifted one shoulder in a shrug, speaking as casually as if she was speaking of the weather.

“What do you mean not Demon?” Josephine blinked, caught off guard by both Talise’s casual attitude as much as she was the assassin’s answer.

“There was a pig farmer in Gwaren”, again, Talise’s armored shoulder lifted in a shrug.

The Herald leaned forward, resting his wide, calloused palms on his knees, and he frowned as he looked at Talise, “The pig farmer?”

“In Gwaren”, Valissia answered before Talise could, slipping past Leliana to stand beside the assassin.

Alistair’s brown eyes sharpened even further, and he looked at Talise, frowning slightly. Cullen shifted his grip on Talise’s arm, tugging her slightly towards him, and away from the king of Ferelden in an unconscious gesture.

“What happened to the pig-farmer in Gwaren?” Christopher stood from the throne, and walked to the top of the steps leading up to it, his massive arms crossed over his chest.

“Did you know”, Amelia came to stand on Talise’s other side, “That a pig will eat a human body? Everything but the hair and teeth.”

Christopher said nothing but stared at Valissia, who met him with a look of fierce determination that matched Talise’s. Finally, he shifted his gaze back to Talise, not missing as Cullen subtly pulled Talise to him, or that Alistair still stood protectively behind her, “Tell me what happened in Gwaren.”

“The daughter of a pig-farmer in Gwaren became pregnant. Out of wedlock. The farmer accused a local boy of rape. Magistrates were sent from Denerim, and they came to the conclusion that the boy was innocent, but the girl would not tell them who the father of the baby was.”

"One of the Magistrates sent word to Ghost that perhaps she could get to the bottom of things," Valissia added. The redheaded mage had often served as a contact for Talise, as had Amelia, passing letters and notes, requests for the Ghost’s aid, back and forth as easily as she passed research or a romantic letter.

“What did she find?”

“The farmer had given one of his daughters to a man he owed a large sum of money to, for the man’s personal use. He sought to cover his crimes against his daughter by casting blame on the son of a local potion maker”, Talise looked steadfastly at Christopher, “I had absolutely no connection to any of them, in any way. I didn’t know them. I simply did what the magistrate had asked of me, which was to find out what had happened.”

“How did the man die?” Josephine pressed one hand to her chest, fidgeting with her heavy necklace for a moment, before she took a deep breath, and looked at Talise.

“I slit his throat”, Talise lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “And we fed him to the pigs. It seemed fitting.”

The Antivan Ambassador blanched, her eyes wide for a moment. Gasps of outrage and whispers were audible before Josephine recovered, “Why…. Why did you tell us this?”

“If you’d read the entire book I gave the Inquisition on the day I joined, you’d know about it. It’s in there. To answer your question, no, I have never let Demon torture someone. I’m an assassin, I kill people. It’s not always a clean death, but I always, always, do it myself.” She was standing so close to Cullen she stood partly in his shadow, the darkness making Talise’s summer bright gaze gleam as she fixed Christopher with a glare.

“I would have done more than feed him to the pigs”, Zevran muttered darkly behind her.

“I think I’ve heard enough.” Alistair’s decade on the throne had taught him how to command respect, and now his demeanor changed the atmosphere in the room with just a glance from his warm brown eyes. As he spoke, he moved from his spot on the dais, coming to stand directly behind Talise. The king towered over Talise,  and he kept his hand on her shoulder, although his arm had stretched slightly as she was tugged away from him, “The Inquisition knew of Talise’s work as the Ghost of Ferelden when she joined. Her talents, her skills, her contact lists, have been used extensively. You have had no qualms sending her to do your dirty work before this.

For a moment, Christopher said nothing, as he carefully weighed his options. To anger Alistair further, especially after the events at Redcliffe, was unwise, but the Inquisition had to have the support of the Orlesian’s as well. Finally, he spoke, keeping his tone respectful, “Your Majesty, we have...”

“I am not finished”, Alistair’s voice carried throughout the main keep, silencing the whispers that had risen at Talise's responses.

Christopher nodded, his back as straight as if he had a spine made of steel, “She is not facing Judgment, Your Majesty. There were concerns about her behavior.”

"I fail to see why there are any concerns. I receive daily reports on how dangerous the Venatori are, how they infiltrate every level of Orlais, there were some recently found within my own keep in Denerim. If Talise found one, however she killed him, I think we are better off for her actions."

“I agree with King Alistair”, Leliana spoke once more, “We knew what she was capable of when she joined the Inquisition. The idea that suddenly her methods are to be questioned is absurd.”

“This is merely a ploy on the part of the Orlesians, to draw attention away from the fact that one of their own nobles was supporting Corypheus”, Alistair spared a glance at the Orlesian ambassador, who wilted under the king’s hard glare. The Orlesians gathered on one side of the court fell quiet, the ambassador unable to meet anyone’s gaze.

Cullen lost his patience, what little he had, irritation clearly evident in his voice as he spoke, “I think this has gone on long enough.”

Christopher nodded, his gaze straying to Valissia once more, and the spirit made met his look levelly, an icy gleam in her cloud colored gaze. He nodded, thankful that Cullen and Leliana had sided with Talise, “I agree. My apologies, Talise, you have done much to help the Inquisition.”

“I see the threat Corypheus poses. And I want vengeance for my brother’s death. Might I make a suggestion, Inquisitor?”

“Of course.”

Talise slipped out from under Alistair’s arm, gently tugged her arm free of Cullen, and stepped forward, her sky touched gaze focused on the Herald, “You have long let your advisors and others tell you what to do, instead of making decisions on your own. I suggest you reach between your legs and tug down, your balls seem to have retracted.”

She spun on one booted foot as soon as she finished speaking, her chin tilted up in defiance; but she paused when she faced Cullen. In a moment, all that had passed between them hung in the air, almost tangible, and for a moment her emotions were laid bare. Doubt shimmered in her summer bright gaze as she looked up at Cullen, doubt in herself, and a flash of pain as if she expected him to turn away from her. Alistair took a hesitant step forward, as did Zevran, both unwilling to let Talise walk through the crowd alone. She did not notice either of them and instead, she peered up at Cullen through a waterfall of dark hair.

Cullen sucked in a deep breath, staring back at Talise. His gaze did not lift to Christopher, to Josephine, or the crowd around him. Not many could claim to know Talise well, she kept her secrets close to her, but he had seen enough of them to know the fear that gleamed in her gaze as she stared back up at him; she was expecting him to walk away from her. She had never flinched when he revealed his darkest secrets, understood the depths of his guilt, carried some of it for him, and he would not let her face this crowd gathered alone. He stepped forward, bowing slightly and offering an arm out for Talise to take, “My Lady, may I have the honor…?”

Valissia and Amelia had exchanged glances as Talise stood in front of Cullen, another secret laid bare, and both relaxed when Cullen offered his arm to her. Valissia picked up the edge of her robes with one slim hand, and Amelia turned, nearly bumping into Rylen’s broad chest. For a moment, the storm mage merely stared up at the Knight-Captain and then she slipped past him and followed Cullen and Talise out of the main hall. Her nose went up in the air as she passed Michel, and she kept her gaze firmly on the wide front doors as she strode down the carpet, followed by Valissia, who walked with determination. Outside of the doors, Valissia caught up to her, and they watched Cullen and Talise walk across the walkway to his quarters.

Safely out of view of the people within the main hall, Amelia heaved a sigh, dropping her palm into her hand, “Maker… This was enough drama to fill one of Varric’s books.”

“We just swore fealty to Alistair. In front of the entire Inquisition”, Valissia’s cloud gray eyes were wide as she looked over at Amelia. A broad grin formed on the spirit mage’s face, and she started to giggle, covering her face with one hand, “What have we done?”

“I don’t want to know. What I do want is to be there when Arl Tegan gets news of this. The look on his face will be one to remember,” Amelia grinned, walking down the stairs in front of her.

“I know that this will impact Talise, and you and me, in ways we can’t imagine. But until then, let me just enjoy this moment.” Valissia followed her, laughing as she followed the storm mage.

“Did you see the look on the Orlesian ambassador’s face when Alistair spoke?”

“Which time?”

“Every time”, Amelia giggled, wrapping her arm around Valissia’s shoulders, “Let’s go to the tavern, and get drunk.”

“And flirt with Rylen?” Valissia shot Amelia a knowing glance out of the corner of her eye as they walked towards the Herald’s Rest.

“Nope. That is not happening. I’m not flirting with Michel either, he can…”

“Kiss your ass?”

“Kiss my lily white, magic using, Fereldan ass”, Amelia finished, holding the door to the Herald’s Rest open for Valissia with a dramatic flourish.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cullen leaned against the doors to his quarters, pressing his forehead into the wood for a moment, while he heaved a sigh. His shoulders dropped as he heaved a sigh, pushing away from the door and turning to look at Talise. She stood next to his desk, her fingers tracing over the blood stains on his desk while she stared at him through wide, crystalline blue eyes.

"Did you think I was going to walk away from you? After you answered Josephine's questions?" The words stuck in his throat, and he had to swallow a sudden case of nerves. Talise had always expected that he would push her away, that once her secrets were revealed and she had nothing to hide behind, he would leave her. The very idea made his heartache.

Her gaze lowered, and she studied the tops of her scuffed boots, “Cullen, I didn’t expect you. I wasn’t planning on having anyone in my life. I don’t know how to do this, how to be with someone.”

“I wasn’t planning on you either”, he could not help the smile that quirked his lips as he watched her, the candlelight from his desk shimmering in her dark hair.

“I do horrible things. All the time.”

“And this time you did them for me. No one has ever fought for me like that. The Hero of Ferelden, and Alistair, and even Zevran came to the circle and fought off the demons. But that wasn't for me. No one has ever, ever fought for _me_.” Cullen walked from the doors to his quarters, until the tips of his boots brushed against Talise’s. Rather than reach for her, he simply waited, standing so close to her he could smell the water lily in her shampoo.

“What else was I supposed to do? I could do nothing from Val Royeaux. I knew they were coming for you, and I could not do anything. I was stuck. And I just…” Dark lashes obscured her gaze as Talise closed her eyes, her pulse visible in the hollow of her throat.

“I knew your heart, the night I stayed with you in the chapel. I knew who you were that morning when you stood for Judgment. I know who you are every time you leave, every time you come back with someone else's blood on your hands. And Talise, look at me", As Cullen spoke, one leather-clad hand rose, cupping her smooth cheek in his palm, and he used gentle pressure to tilt her head up until she opened her eyes to look at him, "I don't care. I don't care what you do, who you kill. I don't even care how you do it. I just want you to come back to me safe, each time you leave."

Talise’s eyes, a swirling mix of myriad shades of blue, shined with unshed crystalline tears, her lashes spiked with them as her eyes welled further, and when she blinked, the tears started paths down her smooth cheeks, dampening her skin in silvery tracks. Long moments passed as Talise stared up at Cullen, tears leaving shining paths on her skin before she finally moved. As she had earlier, coming out of the barn, she threw herself at Cullen, even as close as they stood the force of her body connecting with his forced Cullen to take a step or two back.

His powerful arms locked around her back, pulling her off of her feet as her arms wound around her neck, and their lips met, coming together in a wild mix of emotions. Every ounce of fear, anger, and love she had been feeling through her trip to Val Royeaux, Talise poured into the kiss. Cullen met her kiss with equal amounts of emotion, and they stood in his quarters, locked in an embrace until his arms were shaking from holding her off the ground and to him.

Even as she slipped from his arms and her feet landed on the ground, Cullen followed her, his tongue tangling with her in a carnal rhythm. He felt her talented fingers slide to the clasps on his armor, popping the pieces she could reach open, and then metallic clangs sounded in the air, masking their panting breaths. When Talise shoved his surcoat off his shoulders with an almost vicious movement, he let go of her back to start to work on her armor, finally pulling his mouth from hers.

As each piece of armor was tugged free, he moved a step backward, until his booted feet bumped against the bottom step leading to his balcony. Dagna and the dwarven engineers had finished the circular staircase just a day or so earlier, but in the ensuing chaos, Cullen had forgotten about them. Talise tilted her chin up, her eyes widening as she saw the staircase, and then the ceiling. All of the ceiling in Cullen’s quarters had been replaced, and in the middle, where the hole had been, a giant skylight had been placed. Through the glass, Talise could still see the night sky.

“Maker… that is…”

“Not as beautiful as you are”, Cullen smiled, curling his fingers around hers, and gently tugged her after him as he climbed the staircase. At the top of the balcony, he stopped, looking over one muscled shoulder, a blush riding his cheeks, “Uhhh… I had planned to do this differently.”

Talise lifted an eyebrow as she took the last steps of the staircase, her eyes taking in the changes to his room. A large armoire had been installed, the doors opened, and Cullen's clothes hung neatly in one side of it, another armor stand stood beside Cullen. The bed matched the armoire and was covered with a familiar set of sheets, but now a new blanket covered the sheets, and next to it, stood an empty trunk.

Cullen lifted one hand to the back of his neck, rubbing in a familiar gesture as his cheeks darkened in a blush, “I just thought… instead of bringing your things here, you could…”

“Bring them all here?” Talise felt her cheeks turn as bright pink as Cullen’s were, and she could not fight the smile that lifted her blushing cheeks.

He nodded, unable to meet her gaze for a moment, “In the beginning, no one knew… but things have changed now. Everyone knows.”

“There’s no point in hiding me away anymore?” She could not help but tease him as she walked to the foot of the bed, tugging off her chest piece, and letting it hit the ground with a thud.

“I was never hiding you away Talise”, Cullen protested, following to stand in front of her, “You know that, right?”

“I do. I know why you felt the way you did. But I also know that I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore”, she grinned up at him, feeling a sudden rush of affection, and some bright emotion she could not quite place.

He met her smile with one of his own and lifted his hand to free one of her vambraces, letting it join her other armor on the floor. Beneath her armor she wore a pale linen shirt, which clung to her high breasts, one calloused hand rose to cup one, squeezing it gently, before starting to work on her leggings. In a moment Talise stood before him in just her shirt, her legs bare as she fell back onto the bed and slid upwards to the pillows. Through bright eyes she watched Cullen pull his armor off, then his boots, clad in just a pair of leather breeches he leaned on the bed, almost stalking her as he crawled up until he was hovering over her.

“Can I confess something”, he leaned down until he could bury his face in the delicate stretch of her neck, pressing kisses into her skin even as his stubble raked against it, “It was lonely without you.”

"Can I confess something?" she shivered, squirming as she lifted her arms around his neck once more, "I stole one of your shirts when I left and slept with it."

“That’s what happened to it?” Cullen lifted his head, sighing as Talise’s fingers sunk into his thick hair, his amber eyes hidden beneath tawny lashes.

jTalise grinned up at him, leaning up to sink her teeth into the soft spot where his neck meant his broad shoulder, fighting back a chuckle when he hissed in response. A broad hand slid into her dark tresses, tilting her head back as he looked down at her, meeting her grin with one of his own, “Thief.”

“We’ve been over this. Templar.” Even as she spoke, Talise moved, curling one leg around his waist, and using the other to hook around one of his knees, turning him until he falls onto the mattress, and she is straddling his waist.

Cullen landed with a small thud, the new mattress protesting, and he laughs, stretching his frame comfortably out, lifting one leg and bending it, until Talise could lean against his thigh, his knee pressed against her back. Once she was sitting astride his hips, the tender folds between her legs pressed tightly to his erection, Talise heaved a sigh, and fought to ignore the demands of her body. One slim-fingered hand reached for Cullen's, and she curled her fingers around his, frowning as she looked down at him.

“Are you sure you are alright? I use those poisons, regularly. I know how they work, what they do”, Talise’s free hand traced over the veins in his arms, following the paths the poison would have taken as it pumped through his body.

“I’m fine. Magdalena saw to that”, Cullen watched her fingers as they traced over his arms, chills racing down his skin in response.

“And how do you feel about that? Maggie must have…” Talise continued her movements, fingertips sliding over his broad shoulders.

“I’m grateful to be alive, despite the way Maggie did it.” He smiled up at her, pushing himself up from the bed until his fingers could tug her hair down from the ponytail she had lifted it into, silken strands of hair catching on the calluses on his fingers.

“I know… that you’re not comfortable with magic. Or the way it is wielded.”

“I didn’t have much of a say in the matter, to be honest. I remember a meeting at the War Table, and then… it felt as if I had been slammed in the chest with a hammer. Nothing until the next day.”

“I do not regret the way she saved you. I will never regret that. If I had the power to do so, I would have done it myself”.

At her words, Cullen moved once more, sitting up and laying his palm, rough from practice and use, against her mouth, “Stop Talise. I am not angry, just… unsettled. But I am glad to be alive.”

Talise nodded, her eyes large and luminous above his hand, her fingers curling into his wrist as he spoke, “I am sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Stop it Talise. Listen to me, they knew how we worked, how you would respond, they knew everything. That is not your fault.”

“No, but it won’t happen again.”

"I'm sure in the morning you'll tear apart the scouts and spies to find out who was involved", As he spoke, he moved, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around Talise's wait, until he could flip her back onto her bed, "Just give me tonight, before you finish cleaning this mess up."

Talise went easily, offering no resistance when he pushed her over onto her back, and her arms wound around his neck as he spoke. She pulled him down to her, sighing as his frame settled against hers, and brushed her lips against his teasingly, “Then Commander… you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Cullen smiled down at her, he could feel her body arching to press against his even as she tugged at him, and suddenly the heat that had erupted between them downstairs raged again. One calloused hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to meet his lips, the other skimmed down her side, tugging at the shirt she wore, and sliding it up her body.

The gentle kiss was broken when Talise lifted up from the bed, letting go of Cullen long enough to tug her shirt off the rest of the way. He sucked in a breath when he realized she wore no breastband beneath her shirt, her breasts were bared for him, pink nipples tightening in the cool air as his fingers gently traced over the curves of her breasts. Talise squirmed on the bed in response, her fingers tightening and then relaxing mindlessly on his shoulders, then sliding up into his hair, and then back down his back as far as she could reach, digging into his muscles, coasting over his scarred skin.

Murmuring her name, pressing words of love into her skin, Cullen’s lips slid down her throat, pressing into the hollow that throbbed with her heartbeat, and then lower, nipping at one swollen nipple, soothing his marks with his tongue. Calloused fingers coasted down her sides, gripping the silken hem of her smallclothes, and tugging them over the curve of her hips, and down her legs, Talise wriggled on the bed, kicking them off the bed. Her talented fingers slid to the ties on his leather breeches, and she tugged them free with an efficient move, knowing which knot he preferred to use.

He groaned when her fingers slid inside his breeches, past the rumpled linen smallclothes he wore, and curled around his length. The seriousness of their talk had dampened his arousal, but now, with her fingers curled around him, his lust came roaring back. Resting his forehead against hers, he rocked his hips into her hand, murmuring encouragement as she continued to stroke him. Talise kept her touch teasingly light, just enough to make him fully hard, to have him throbbing in her grasp, but not tight enough to bring any sort of relief. When he lifted his head, sucking in a breath, he looked down at her and found her grinning wickedly up at him while she continued to pleasure him.

“Tease…” he murmured the words, leaning back onto his knees away from her as she continued to stroke him, a shudder coursing through his frame. Strong fingers dug into her hips as he held onto her, calloused fingers rubbing against soft, tender skin, his amber eyes gleaming with arousal as he avidly watched her continue to toy with him.

“No, a tease does not intend to finish what she started. I have every intention of it”, Talise wore her wicked grin still as she continued her carnal torment, her fingers tightening around his swollen length for a moment, squeezing as her fingers ran over the sensitive head of his cock, and then relaxing as she stroked back down his length.

Cullen bit back a curse, his eyes falling closed as Talise stroked him, the muscles in his legs starting to shake. It had been too long, just a few weeks since they last came together, but it had simply been too long, he needed her too much, and for a brief moment he was afraid he was going to spill into her fingers. Gritting his teeth against the pleasure, he moved his hand, trailing them over her hip bone, running them down her tender skin, and he cursed again, as Talise spread her legs eagerly for him, not shy about demanding her own pleasure. Beneath the carefully trimmed dark hair, her tender folds were swollen, glistening with arousal already, his fingers shook just slightly as he traced down between them, parting them to press against her opening, and then withdrawing to rub at the bundle of nerves atop her folds.

Talise’s hand paused on his cock, long lashes fluttering shut as Cullen touched her, a pout appearing on her face when he did not slip his fingers into her, “Now who’s being a tease?”

“No, I intend to finish what I’ve started”, Cullen grinned, using his free hand to shove his breeches and small clothes past his hips, shoving them off with as few movements as he possibly could. Once he was naked, in between Talise’s spread thighs, he continued to touch her, rubbing her small pearl between his fingers, until he felt it swell and push against his fingers, while Talise rubbed her hips against his hand, whimpering at his touch.

He kept his touch teasingly light, rubbing just enough to bring her pleasure, but not quite enough to bring her to her peak. Talise squirmed on the bed, her hips lifting pleadingly against his hand, trying desperately to press herself against his hand. Her own continued to stroke him, although her touch had faltered and was not so smooth, while Cullen missed the sure strokes of her touch, he reveled in how quickly Talise fell apart for him. The candles burned low as they continued to toy with each other, Cullen occasionally leaning down to suck on Talise’s pink nipples, until they too were swollen and rosy from his attention, or Talise would lean up to bite and suck at the skin on his shoulders and neck.

 Cullen could take no more, and he pushed forward, curling one hand around Talise’s, stilling her fingers on his cock, their fingers twining as he rubbed his cock against her, the movement drawing a groan from both of them. Talise's moan ended on a whimper, and she spread her legs further apart, her toes digging into the sheets, Cullen slid his free hand down to her leg, gripping the back of her thigh and holding it in his calloused palm as he continued to rub against her for a moment. In the next moment, he pushed forward, hissing out a plea to the Maker as he slid into her. Talise bit back a shriek, she was unsure how long they had been in bed, and Cullen had toyed with her until she was almost overly sensitive.

“Maker…” Cullen groaned as he slid further into her, his fingers lifting hers from his length and curling tightly around her hand. His eyes slid closed, as he slid further into her tight folds, savoring the feel of her body.

Talise’s free hand reached out for him, her fingers shaking as she curled her them around his neck, the muscles in her arm tightening as she pulled herself up off the bed, his lips grazing his forehead, his cheekbone, the scar that cut down to his lips, his stubble covered cheeks. Cullen met her lips with his own, and as they kissed his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her further from the bed, until he was leaning against the headboard, and she was sitting in his lap. She mewled into his kiss as she sank further down his length until her trembling thighs were pressed against his hips, and he was completely buried inside of her. Unable to help himself, Cullen lifted his hips, his hands sliding down to her hips and pressing her harder down on him, grinding into Talise.

Talise’s fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders, raking over the scars that peppered his skin, marks of fights he had survived, while her hips started to lift and then fall, easing into a slow rhythm that kept Cullen as deep inside of her as was possible. She moaned, breaking the kiss to let her head fall back on to her shoulders, the length of her chocolate dark hair sticking to her sweaty back, “I can’t… I’m too close.”

Cullen managed a smile as Talise spoke, his hips lifting to meet hers, breaths coming in pants as he met her movements, “Let go love… just let go.”

A shudder ran down the arch of Talise’s spine and she moaned, her fingers digging into his skin again, then curling around his biceps, tugging him closer to her. After weeks apart Talise wanted nothing more than to be pressed to Cullen as much as she could be, to feel him against her and within her, he went willingly, curling his arms around her back once more, and cradling her to him as she continued her steady movements, hips rolling against him.

Talise stiffened, back arching further, as her vision turned bright white, and sparks of fire raced down her skin, her hips faltering and losing their carnal rhythm. She squeezed his cock within her, until Cullen cursed, his hips jerking against hers, his arms pulling her tight against him, and he buried his stubble covered face in her smooth shoulder, groaning. When she finally relaxed against him, her climax having left her wobbly, Cullen moved, tightening one arm around her waist, and pushing Talise to her back.

As she settled on the bed, she curled her legs around his hips, mewling as he pushed back into her. Cullen groaned, his hips pressing harder against Talise’s, one large hand cupping the taut curves of her ass to tug her closer to him as he started to rock into her. Talise’s arms curled around his, tightening and tugging him down to her, using her frame to cradle his as they moved together.

Cullen’s free hand slid up Talise’s waist, tracing up her arm and then curling around her hand, lifting it from his shoulder and curling his fingers around her own. Clenching his fingers around her own, as he moved, hips snapping against hers, driving into her body with increasing vigor. Each thrust brought a moan from Talise, and she clung to Cullen’s frame, leaning up to press her lips to the length of his neck, and the top of his shoulder, her teeth sinking into the tender spot where his neck and shoulder met.

Cullen let go of her hand, his fingers drifting down her stomach, to the tender nub at the top of her folds. As soon as his calloused thumb rubbed against it, she tightened around his length, and she whimpered, while he cursed, panting with each thrust. The more he rubbed her swollen clit, the wetter Talise got, slicking his length and then the tops of his thighs as she shivered and moaned against him, her arms tightening around his neck.

The air grew warm around them as he continued to thrust within her, sweat beaded his shoulders, and slid down his back, Talise’s fingers trailed through the gleaming droplets as she stroked his back, slid into his hair, and then back down his back in a restless rhythm. Cullen continued to rub expertly at her clit, and just a few moments later, her thighs started to shake, and she shivered violently, clenching down around him, bringing a moan from them both.

 For long moments they stayed locked together, rocking against each other, slowly coming back from their climax. Talise ran his fingers through Cullen’s hair, mussing the golden curls further, clinging Cullen as he slumped against her, his muscled form pressed against her own. His own calloused hand slid up her back, roughened fingers curled loosely into her hair and he tilted her head back until he could look into her wide cerulean eyes, his warm gaze meeting hers and holding it, "I don't care who you swear your loyalty to, or who you fight for. Talise, you will always be mine, and I will never let go. I can't."

Talise nodded, caught in his honeyed gaze, and she shifted, pulling up from his spent cock, only to be pinned in his place by his free hand, holding her down against him. She settled against his frame once more, her fingers slowly threading through his golden curls, her lips grazing his cheek, “I would break every oath I’ve ever taken for you.”

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You eyes aren't deceiving you, it's a twofer!! I felt these chapters needed to go together, to wrap up Josephine's personal quest line.

Atop the highest tower in Skyhold, on one of the carved merlons, sat the Ghost of Ferelden. Talise was virtually fearless when it came to heights, and she sat comfortably. The black armor she wore was gone, instead, she wore a long tunic, untucked, the ends hung over her thighs, a comfortable pair of leggings, and boots that were scuffed beyond repair. She did not look the part of a Fereldan noble, not with her heavy mass of hair undone and tumbling down her back, the sunshine sending sparks of red and gold through the strands.

The King of Ferelden, former Grey Warden, came to a stop as he stepped on the floor of the tower. Alistair's heart ached at the sight of Talise, from Cullen he knew she came up here frequently, from Valissia and Amelia, he knew she came up here when her memories of Jordan were too great to bear. , concerned friend who had worried about Talise for the better part of his time on the throne. First as one of the numerous children orphaned by the Blight, and then when he realized Jordan's little sister was a famed assassin. 

“You still walk the same. Most nobles walk slowly, forcing everyone to stop and look at them. But you still walk with purpose. You still stand the same too, shoulders back, head up straight”, Talise turned slightly, looking back behind her shoulder at Alistair.

He blinked, then looked down at his feet, “How do you know??”

“You don’t bother to hide your footsteps. You walk like a templar, like a Grey Warden. With purpose”, Talise turned smoothly on the merlon, until her back was to the perilous drop, and her booted feet dangled towards the floor of the tower.

 “Can you… would you, please, come down off that?” Alistair had to close his eyes for a moment when Talise moved, aware of how high they were off the ground, and what would happen to Talise if she fell.

“The King of Ferelden, afraid of heights?” She teased, smirking at him, but her booted feet hit the ground with scarcely a sound as she slid off the merlon, “Ok fine, I’m down.”

Alistair did not bother to hide his relieved sigh as the newest noble in Ferelden put her feet on more secure footing, “Thank you Talise. I’m sorry to intrude, but we need to talk. And I managed to break free of the Fereldan nobles.”

A dark eyebrow lifted in question as she looked up at him, “Talk?? About?”

“Well… you see… I did not realize that you blamed yourself for Jordan’s… death.”

“It is my fault.”

“No Talise, if there is any blame to be had, it’s mine.”

“You couldn’t have stopped Corypheus, you didn’t know about him.”

“No, but I asked Jordan to come here.”

Talise lifted her chin up to look up into Alistair’s face, her sky touched gaze wide as she stared at him.

“I needed someone I could trust. I knew the agents the spymaster had sent would not do a decent job, you had proven his contacts were not what they should be. I needed someone who could tell me what was going on and could possibly help if needed. I had all of those things in Jordan", Alistair sighed, leaning against the merlon next to Talise, although he kept his gaze fastened securely on the mountains and did not look down.

“He was a good judge of people. And always had your best interests in mind. I can’t say the same for many in Denerim.

“Exactly. And… Jordan wanted to step down as Captain of the Royal Guard. He wanted to go spend some time in Nightreach. As much as I hated to see him go, I knew he deserved it. I asked him to go to the Conclave for me, and report back anything I might need to know, and then he could retire to Nightreach. Before I knew it, there was the explosion, and then shortly after Haven was lost… and he was gone.”

“It’s not your fault. Even knowing he was about to die, Jordan would have gone anyways.”

“I know that. But it doesn’t make the guilt any easier to carry. I am responsible, as king, for many deaths. Some of them hit harder than others.”

"I don't blame you, Alistair."

“Then you must stop blaming yourself Talise. Not for me, and not for anyone else, but for you. This will eat you alive if you let it, and you’ll end up old and alone and bitter. I’ve seen it happen.”

Talise sucked in a breath, crystalline tears starting to shimmer in her cerulean gaze as she looked up at Alistair, “I….”

“Maker Talise, don’t cry. You are a thousand times more beautiful when you cry, and you are already the most beautiful woman in the world”, Alistair heaved a sigh, and wrapped a large arm around Talise’s frame, drawing her to his side.

Despite her tears, and her grief, Talise blushed, unable to meet Alistair’s warm, almost soft brown eyes as he looked at her, “I am not.”

“You are too. You could have any man you want, at your feet.”

“I don’t want them all at my feet. I’m not some object to be worshipped.”

"Cullen does a good job of worshipping you if the rumors are to be believed", Alistair said with a wry grin, chuckling when Talise's cheeks heated once more, "Before you ask how I know, the entire keep is talking about it. And he has a rather large hole in his roof, which apparently sound carries through."

“Maker….”

“Cullen is a good man. He has struggled, he’s lived through things no person should, and suffered. For awhile, he wasn’t the same boy I trained with.”

"I'm an assassin, Alistair. I'm in no place to judge him."

“I know. Listen to me Talise, he’s changed, for the better. I know you didn’t do that, I know that he changed on his own, but you’ve given him a reason to keep changing. And if he draws you out of the shadows, and forces you to see the good in yourself, then I cannot complain.”

“Thank you, Alistair.”

“I have always felt like I should have made you stay in Denerim. Should have talked to Jordan about it, instead of letting you go to Rivain, you trained there. If you had stayed in Denerim…”

“I wouldn’t be Ghost.”

“Exactly.”

"But I've done good as the Ghost. I've managed to balance the scales, in small ways, that adds up to more good."

"I see that now. I will always wish you had stayed if only to keep you safe. But you have done good, and now, as Bann, you have an opportunity to do more good. I expect it of you."

“You sound very kingly when you say that.”

“Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“To live up to your lofty expectations? I’ll try”.

“It’s all I will ever ask of you Talise. Do as much good as you can”, he turned then, pushing away from the merlon and walking back to the steps, there sat a small wrapped bundle, and a long sword, tucked into a sheath and covered with an oiled piece of leather, “In the spirit of that, I brought you some things.”

Talise’s curiosity, something she had possessed since birth, had her walking after Alistair, trying to peer past his large frame to the package he held. When he passed it to her, she took it, carefully untying the string and peeling the plain paper away; inside was a tunic, one the royal guards wore, as she shook it out she saw the emblem signifying captain on one shoulder, and on the other, an embroidered M. This tunic had belonged to her brother, and the knowledge of it had tears shimmering in her eyes as she looked up at Alistair.

“It was in his belongings in Denerim. I had them sent to Nightreach, but I wanted to bring this to you personally. I hoped you would come through Denerim after we got word of the events at Haven. I had forgotten Nightreach had a dock and you could sail straight there.” Alistair watched Talise as she opened the package, the hurt, and sympathy he felt for her shining in his brown gaze.

Talise nodded, trembling fingers tracing over the M on the tunic, her free hand wiping at the tears on her cheeks.

“And this…” reverently Alistair picked up the long sword and tugged the oiled cloth free. His hand gripped the sheath with ease, and the sword came free of the simple leather sheath with an almost musical sound, “The great families of Ferelden all have swords, or shields, that they pass down. Your father’s great sword was lost at Ostagar, and Jordan’s sword was lost at Haven. So I had one made.”

Talise sniffled, fighting back a sob, as she stared at the sword. The pommel was decorated with a pair of crossed daggers, engraved in silver, the hilt was wrapped in black leather, the guard studded with tiny chips of deep blue sapphires. The blade itself was meticulously made, worked by a blacksmith handpicked by Alistair, and it had been polished to a sparkling shine, “I can’t…”

“I know you can’t wield it. I’ve seen your sword work”, Alistair responded drily, deliberately missing the point.

Talise snorted back a laugh, nodding in agreement, “I need to work on it.”

“I don’t think all the practice in the world could help with it.”

“But she is deadly accurate with a dagger” Cullen’s deep baritone cut through Talise’s laughter as he walked up the steps. The sunlight turned his carefully brushed hair a bright gold and brought out the red in the fur trim of his surcoat, “Your Majesty. Bann Talise.”

“Stop it”, both Alistair and Talise spoke at the same time, protesting the use of their titles, and the action brought another round of laughter from Talise.

“I found myself free and thought that I would find Talise. If I’m interrupting something.”

“No, you're not. I wanted to speak with Talise, about what you and I talked over before that debacle last night." Alistair gestured to the sword Talise was holding, "And I brought her something."

“That is a magnificent sword”, Cullen’s warm whiskey gaze took in the blade with the look of a man studying a famed work of art.

“There is an extremely talented blacksmith in Denerim, who was more than happy to cater to the whims of the king.” Alistair smiled at Talise fondly, with just a hint of something deeper, something he kept carefully concealed.

Alistair’s subtle look of longing was missed by both Cullen and Talise, who studied the sword together. Cullen shook his head when Talise offered it to him, “No Talise, that belongs to your family.”

“Cullen, you wouldn’t refuse a Fereldan noble would you?” she flashed a bright smile at him, her tears from earlier already drying on her porcelain smooth cheeks.

“So you are more than happy to use your title to get your way?” grinning, Cullen took the sword, testing its balance, and then thumbing the edge.

“She is already a true noble.” Alistair smiled.

"Shut it, both of you," Talise grumbled good-naturedly, using both hands to hold Jordan's tunic to her chest, almost like a young child would a security blanket.

“Did you tell him yet?” Cullen gestured to Alistair with his free hand, arching a tawny eyebrow at Talise.

“I… it hasn’t…” Talise faltered, shaking her head no and peering at Alistair out of the corner of her eyes.

“Tell him Talise.”

“Tell me what?”

“Talise came up with the idea of replacing your Spymaster… with Zevran”, Cullen slid the sword back into the sheath Alistair had held out, his gloved fingers tracing over the daggers on the pommel.

Alistair blinked comically, his eyes wide as his gaze flicked from Cullen to Talise and then back again, “She… what??”

“He has as many contacts as I do. He has destroyed House Arainai and has almost crippled the Crows completely. You traveled with him, you know his skills.” Talise lifted an eyebrow at Alistair as she looked up at him, the gleam in her eyes daring him to argue with her.

“You are right about that. But he’s….”

“An assassin? So I am.” Talise pointed out, meeting Alistair’s gaze with her own.

“It’s actually something I agree with. Zevran is an assassin, but he has proven to be fiercely loyal to Talise, and… well, he didn’t have to stay with the Hero.” Carefully Cullen slid the sword back into its sheath and held it out gently for Talise to take.

Alistair heaved a sigh and nodded in agreement, “No he didn’t. And I know he was hurt at the end. We were all hurt, but Zevran was devastated.”

“I think that’s why he went back to Antiva, destroying the Crows was a suicide mission. One he didn’t think to survive. Now he has, and he needs to find his place in the world.”

“You know, the same could be said for you Talise.”

“That’s what I’m doing here. I’m going to finish what Jordan started.” She answered, taking the sword from Cullen and wrapping her arms protectively around it, cradling it to her chest.

Alistair heaved a sigh, raking a hand through his reddish hair, “My councilors are going to be outraged.”

“Do you remember what I told Christopher last night?” Talise met Alistair’s gaze pointedly, determined to  

“The part about his balls having retracted?”

Talise nodded, “The same goes for you. You are at your strongest, the best king, when you led like you think you should, not how others think you should. If you think Zevran would be a good Spymaster, offer him the position, I have it on good authority he’ll accept it. And your councilors can either grow to like it or quit their positions.”

“Talise, you have, in the timespan of a day, insinuated that both the Herald of Andraste and the King of Fereldan have no…” unable to finish the sentence, Cullen felt his cheeks heating.

Alistair’s face flushed to match Cullen’s, and Talise snorted, unable to stop the laughter that bubbled up, until she was bent over at the waist, her dark hair obscuring her face, “It’s… not… like I asked him to provide proof otherwise.”

Cullen's warm honey gaze collided with Alistair's brown one, and both blushed to the roots of their hair as Talise gasped out her rather bawdy response, before they too started to laugh. It was a release of tension, even after the events of the last night, the stress, and tension within the keep had still run high. Now, in the golden afternoon sunlight, as Talise almost fell to her knees laughing, for a moment everything seemed to be lighter.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valissia was elbow deep in the rich earth of the garden. She had managed to avoid Christopher, had spent the previous evening with Iron Bull and his Chargers, drinking until her head swam, and she woke up in the room she had been sharing with Amelia and Talise. A cool bath had eased her headache, and so had a steaming cup of tea, made by Magdalena. The Seer had watched her through knowing dark eyes and mentioned the job of weeding the herb garden.

“I don’t understand him Magdalena”, Valissia said, pulling viciously at an offending weed.

Magdalena looked up from her own job, carefully planting rare seeds into large pots, and pouring a small amount of water over each one, “Oh my heart, he is different. Nobles spend much of their time worrying about others, and what others may think. You and Amelia and Talise have lived free of that kind of burden. Christopher is trying to balance what he knows to be right, with keeping every soul in this Inquisition happy.”

"But that's an impossible job", once more Valissia pulled hard at another weed until the plant gave up and she dropped it into a growing pile. Instead of her normal flawless robes, Valissia was weeding the garden in a pair of leggings, and a flowing shirt that hung off one freckled shoulder, even her boots were off, and she was barefoot, her toes digging into the dirt as she worked.

“I know that, and you know that. He will learn it soon. Last night may have set him straight, he looked like he didn’t sleep much this morning.”

“Did you say anything to him?”

“No. I merely passed him a cup of the tea I make for Cullen and left him to his thoughts.”

“Thank you. His shoulder is hurting, and he won’t let me heal it properly.” Another weed was yanked from the ground, and summarily dropped atop the pile, “And why won’t he let me heal it?”

"Because he is trying to be strong. . He carries the weight of the Inquisition on his shoulders and the fate of the world. He feels that he must be strong, must not show weakness nina”, Maggie kept her words smooth and calm as she worked, gently poking seeds beneath the dirt.

“But he doesn’t need to be that for me.”

“Doesn’t he? He watches Cullen and Talise and wants what they have. And he thinks like many men do, that he must be strong to gain the affections of a woman.”

“But…”

“I know that Cullen is not perfect, and not always strong. It is his love for Talise that makes him that way. And Talise shows him that. You must do for Christopher what Talise does for Cullen mija, show him that is alright for him to be weak." Gently Magdalena leaned over, patting Valissia's cheek with a wrinkled, tattoo covered, dirt-smudged hand.

“Thank you, Magdalena. You know, I always feel like I should be writing what you say down.”

“Create The Book of Maggie” The Rivaini seer laughed, watering the last few seeds she had planted.

“We have The Book of Ghost. We need something to balance out the…”

"Death? Mija, death is part of life. Talise walks in shadows and deals in death, but it is not something to be feared. Whether we will meet again at the Maker's side or somewhere else, with the old Gods, we will be with the ones we love again", Magdalena reached for another pouch of seeds, and then gestured to the beds that still needed to be weeded, "And you have more work to do."

“Maker…” Valissia sighed, pushing herself up and walking on bare feet towards a row of plants that needed some weeding, “There should be a spell to make this easier.”

“There is. But you cannot connect with the earth, with growing things, unless you work with them. Your magic comes from the world around you, you must be a part of it. As Amelia must be a part of the storm.” Carefully Maggie tucked another seed into the rich dark soil and then sprinkled a bit of water over it.

"I wonder how she is… she was drunker than I was last night."

“Amelia needs to master her emotions. Talise does it well, so do you, but Amelia… I fear for her heart.”

“As do I.”

For a moment, Magdalena regarded Valissia through dark eyes that gleamed with many secrets, and then she turned back to her work, carefully planting seeds, “Do you remember when you first came to Rivain with me?”

“And I sunburned so badly I blistered? Yes, I do", Valissia smiled at even the memory of the stinging pain from the burn she had endured her first week with Magdalena.

“I knew you were hurting. Talise was finding a purpose, even then. You had the spirits walking with you. But Amelia… my stormy hearted child, she struggled.”

“Living in Talise’s shadow is not easy.” The words were past Valissia’s lips before she could think to stop them, and her stormy gaze flew to Maggie, already apologetic.

“A burden you know all too well.” Magdalena put down her packet of seeds and walked over to where Valissia sat on her knees, tugging up weeds. Heedless of her dirt-covered hands, the Rivaini seer cupped Valissia's face in her own, until she could gaze into Valissia's cloudy gaze, "Oh my heart. You are talented and strong and just as important as Talise is. So is Amelia."

Valissia nodded, her gaze darting back to her work, and Magdalena shook her head, “No child, you will not bury yourself in your work. Listen to me, you are not less than anyone else. Not because you are a mage, or because your father was a mercenary, or anything else.”

Valissia’s lip trembled, curving outward for a moment as shining tears swamped her gaze. She took a deep breath, and her tears slid down her freckled cheeks as she buried her face in Magdalena’s skirts. Gently Maggie patted Valissia’s shoulder, whispering words to her in Rivaini, giving the spirit mage the time and attention she had desperately been needing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia emerged from the baths, rubbing at her aching head, her hair hanging in long, dark golden curls down her back in a damp spill as she walked down the hallway. She had stubbornly stayed in bed, intent on wallowing in her emotions, until she could not take it anymore. Now she headed for the library, a long skirt, snatched from Amelia’s clothes, swishing around her slippered feet as she walked.

“I know you care for her. But if you have any hope of regaining any status with Celene’s court, you may have to give her up”, Vivienne’s smooth voice cut through Amelia’s turbulent thoughts, and the storm mage stopped, her head tilting towards the sound.

“She just needs some training. Time in a Circle, or with an accomplished mage.” Michel’s voice answered Vivienne’s.

“And lessons in etiquette, manners, comportment. She does not play the Game, she will be vulnerable in Orlais, if you take her there.”

“Bah, this conversation is for nothing.” The irritation in Michel’s voice was easily heard. Amelia had deliberately stayed with Iron Bull and the Chargers the night before, avoiding Michel and any Orlesian within the keep; she knew Michel was frustrated with her, but she was equally frustrated with him, and not ready to talk.

“Well, she was upset with you last night, that much was plain for all to see darling.”

“Talise…”

“Talise started an uproar, and Amelia supported her in it. You must think hard about that Michel, Amelia will always side with Talise, no matter what that… assassin may get up to.” Vivienne somehow managed to sound both annoyed and impressed by the previous night’s events at the same time, and Amelia could not understand how she did it.

“I thought you liked her.”

“I do like her. But Talise is as much a source of trouble as she is anything else. I cannot believe Alistair raised her to a Bann.”

“Surely she will change, now that she is noble.” Michel’s voice hung in the air as Amelia shifted, pressing herself to the side of the wall, her serpentstone gaze locked on the shadows in front of watching them shift as Michel and Vivienne spoke.

“Talise will not change. Nor will Amelia. You can pay for all the lessons you like Michel, Amelia will always be wild and untamed. I can admire that, as much as I see that it will bring you no small amount of trouble.”

“What do I do?”

“Right now whatever you want. But if things go how they should, after this masquerade Celene is throwing, you will be restored to honor, and then, you will have to be careful about whom you publically associate with. Whom you keep company with behind closed doors is entirely up to you.”

“So you are saying I should hide her away if Celene restores my status?”

“I’m saying you will need to think about the impact having someone like Amelia openly in your life will have Michel”.

Amelia stood rooted to the ground, one hand clamped over her mouth, her face white with shock and anger. A hand fell on her shoulder, and she found herself looking up into Dorian’s sympathetic gaze. He lifted a finger to his lips, and turned, tugging her after him. The Tevinter hustled Amelia up to his favorite place in the tower before her temper got the best of her. They were standing before the windows next to a bookcase when Amelia exploded.

“She… He… did you hear? I’m not good enough to be seen with him publically. I’m some dirty apostate mage, only good enough to bed in secret!!!”

Dorian sighed, and placed a hand over Amelia’s mouth, stifling her outraged shriek, “Listen, there are ears everywhere in this place. We can talk, but you must stay quiet.”

“Dorian… I’m not some pawn in a game.”

“You took an Orlesian for a lover, you are playing the Game now”, he held out his arms, and Amelia leaned into him, propping her cheek on his muscled shoulder.

“That vile, hateful witch advised him to keep me in secret. Some toy he plays with and puts back on the shelf”, Amelia was fairly vibrating with anger as she leaned on Dorian’s shoulder, tears gathering in her serpentstone gaze.

“She dresses well though”, Dorian mused, running a comforting hand down Amelia’s back, “Speaking of, are you actually wearing a dress this morning?”

“Yes. I had planned on going back to my room and doing my hair. Valissia says she feels armored when she looks nice.” Amelia sighed, gesturing with a hand back down to the hallway where she had overhead Vivienne and Michel, “You know the rest.”

“Well then, you need to be properly armored", gently Dorian pushed Amelia to a chair by the window, reaching for a box and opening it to pull out a comb and a brush. Gently he started to work on Amelia's hair, tugging tangles free from her curls, "You have gorgeous hair, my dear, let's see if I can't come up with some nice way to wear it."

“Am I really that bad Dorian?” Amelia’s voice was quiet, small as she sat in the chair, gazing out the window at the courtyard below them.

“Bad?? My dear, I’m Tevinter. You are the furthest thing from bad. You are untrained, and it shows, you don't conserve your mana well, which is a weakness. But that is nothing that cannot be corrected. You are not bad." Dorian clucks his tongue at his fingers twisted her curls around his fingers, pinning them in place expertly.

“Then why did Vivienne tell Michel to keep me hidden?”

“Because my dear, Vivienne takes the safe road, always. You are not the safe road.”

“I’m tired of talking about Vivienne and Michel. How’re things with Bull?” Amelia shook her head, wincing as the motion pulled on the blonde curls Dorian was twisting into an elegant updo.

Dorian huffed, heaving a sigh at Amelia’s question, “Hold still. And no, we are not deflecting your problems by talking about mine.”

“Magdalena says that it helps to get your feelings out of your heart.” Amelia tipped her head back to grin up at Dorian.

“I hate it when she’s right. Which is all the time.” Muttering a few curse words in Tevene, Dorian moved, dropping into a chair across from Amelia, “He is Qunari. He is crass and uncultured.”

“And fiercely loyal. And brutally honest. And there is something rather… intriguing about him.” Amelia grinned impishly at Dorian, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged in her chair, ignoring that she was wrinkling her skirt hopelessly.

“Yes yes, he is the perfect specimen of masculinity. Just like Cullen. Or Christopher. Or perhaps… Knight-Captain Rylen?” Dorian could not fight back the grin when Amelia’s eyes widened in outrage as she looked at him.

“Oh no. No. No. Absolutely not.”

"That accent though. You can almost see the ladies swooning when he says, lass."

"He's a templar, Dorian."

“Small problem. One I have no doubt you could not overcome if you wanted”, Dorian chuckles, leaning back in his chair.

“About the same time you’ll get your underthings back from Iron Bull, I’d wager.”

The tea Dorian was sipping from a cup is suddenly down the front of his shirt as the mage chokes, his eyes watering as he coughed, “Vishante kaffas!! That man has absolutely no discretion.”

"Do you think he'll take them and wind them around his ax, like a favor?" fighting back a grin, Amelia leaned back in her chair. Being around Dorian had drastically improved her mood, she felt as if somehow everything was going to resolve itself, or that she had the ability to resolve it herself.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for Talise to put her talents to their full use. The Ghost of Ferelden is going to fight the Inquisition's war from within the shadows, where she fights best. But this time, she will not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my underlying themes was about identity. Who we are, during the good times and the bad. Talise has struggled to bring the two sides of her life together, and now she has to do just that.

The last thing Talise remembered was pressing her face to the space between Cullen’s shoulders, resting her cheek against his muscled back, and falling asleep. She slept atop him often, using his muscled frame as a pillow, and it was natural for her to drift off to sleep, her head rising and falling with his deep, slow breathing. A long day meant they had both virtually collapsed into bed, Cullen was asleep and snoring within minutes; while Talise had stayed up for a few minutes, playing with his honey toned curls, before she too drifted off to sleep.

Now, she stood on the beach in Nightreach, the deep gray stone keep rising above the trees behind her, the docks a further walk down the beach. Her toes dug into the sun warmed sand, as she let out a deep sigh, letting the familiar surroundings soak into her. She had played on this beach as a child, picked shells off the sand with her mother, waited for her father’s return with her brother. The smell of sea and pine trees mixed together sent a pang through her heart.

“Little love”, the deep, gravelly voice sent a shiver through her slight frame, chills breaking out down her arms. She had not heard that voice in a decade, not since… she turned, her summer bright gaze wide in shock as she looked at Hale Montgomery.

He had not changed a bit, dark hair hung down past his shoulders, streaks of gray woven through the hair that hung around his face. A handsome face, weathered by his time at sea, marked with a scar on one cheekbone, smiled down at her. The same eyes she had, bright shifting shades of cerulean, surrounded by tiny lines, were warm and affectionate.

“Daddy??” She barely spoke the word, could hardly form the letters to speak it.

“Hello poppet. It’s been a long time.” As he walked towards her, over a foot taller than she was, his black leather boots sunk into the sand.

“But you… Ostagar… you…”

“Yes. I died little love.” Gently he laid one massive hand on her shoulder, bending down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, “I did not want to leave you, and your brother, and your mother. You were the last things I thought of.”

“This is a dream.” The realization arrowed through her aching heart, and she was unable to stop the tears that glistened in her eyes, just as she took a deep breath, they started their slide down her cheeks.

“Yes love. This is a dream.” One of his hands cupped Talise’s smooth cheek, and a calloused thumb rubbed at the silvery tears that coursed down her cheeks.

“Why… why are you here?” She whispered the words out, closing her eyes against the familiar face that stood before her, her heart pounding in her chest even as it ached.

“To help you.” The air around Hale shimmered, sparkling with a preternatural air as he spoke to her.

“Daddy, I don’t know what to do. Nothing makes sense, Jordan is gone, and this darkspawn is trying to take over the world, and there’s a horrible war. What do I do?” the words burst out Talise, and she raised one hand to brush at her tears, only to have her father push her hand away, while he continued to wipe at her tears himself.

“What you do best little love.”

Her dark brows drew together as Talise frowned, shaking her head at his words, “I’m an assassin. What I do best is kill people.”

Hale shook his head at her words, wrapping a huge arm around her shoulders and drawing her to him, “And find information. And put things together. Poppet, you are so much more than just a simple assassin. But you are good at what you do.”

“What are you saying?” Talise had to lean back and look up towards her father, in life he had been one of the tallest people she knew, standing head and shoulders above a crowd.

“That you have been holding back. By living as you have, two identities, you are not using your talents as you should. You must be Talise _and_ Ghost.” Hale’s eyes drifting from the sea, just off the beach the ocean was a light turquoise, sparkling in the sunlight as waves came to the shore, but further off, the deep water turned a darker blue.

“I…” Talise faltered, the words stuck in her throat as she looked up at her father’s face, a visage she had missed seeing for a decade now.

“Talise, listen to me,", Hale’s words grew firm, and his face serious as he looked down at his only daughter, “You have to do this. You have to be who you are, all of who you are. Or you will fall. He will fall, little love.”

“Who?”, she looked up at her father, confusion in her gaze.

Hale shifted, turning his body, and turning Talise the opposite direction. Behind him, where the tall pine trees met the sandy beach, half-hidden in shadows, stood a lion. His mane was thick, golden turning to red and black, his coat shined in the shimmering sunlight, muscles rippled as he took one step, then another, towards her, massive paws sinking into the warm sand. Down one side of his muzzle ran a scar, the fur not growing back over the injury, ending at the wide mouth, dominated by long teeth.

“Cullen”, the name was a sigh, almost a prayer, as she gazed at him, one hand reaching out towards the lion.

“Yes love. He is a good man. Faithful, loyal. He has scars, and has endured much, but he will not break your heart.” Hale smiled down at her, wiping at her tears one final time, before gently stepping back from his daughter, “He has never truly left you alone, even when you were a tiny little thing, dreaming of him.”

Talise looked from the lion to her father, her eyes cloudy with a sudden rush of pain, as her heart squeezed painfully, “I don’t want to go.”

“It’s time little love,", Hale smiled gently, nodding towards the lion, “I want you to walk towards your lion.”

“No”, tears gathered in her eyes once more, threatening to slide down her cheeks.

“Yes poppet. Go to him. I have never truly left you. Neither has your mother, or your brother. But you must go.” One large hand reached for Talise, pushing her towards the lion with a gentle touch.

Her bare feet seemed stuck, her heart hurt to think of leaving her father behind, but at the same time ached for Cullen, and her gaze remained locked on the lion as she stood on the soft sand of the beach. At her father’s gentle pushed, she took a few hesitant steps towards the lion, then a few more, and finally, the great cat lifted its head, and pushed his cool nose into her outstretched palm. Slowly her fingers traced the familiar scar, slid around and past the golden eyes that were a well-spring of emotion, and then sank into the thick mane, clenching into the fur and holding on tightly.

“Talise…” Hale’s voice called back to her, and she looked over one shoulder at her face.

“Remember how much I love you,", still wearing the same gentle smile, Hale spoke to her, “Wake up poppet. Wake up my little love.”

Talise lifted her lashes, spiky from tears, and looked across a familiar room. Gray stone made up the walls, red sheets adorned the bed, a wardrobe stood open, and resting on a hangar was a long crimson red surcoat, topped with a black and red fur. Her cheek was resting on Cullen’s back, pressed against the warm skin, her head rising and then falling.

Slowly, she lifted her head from Cullen’s back, stealthily she slid to the edge of the bed, and used the corner of a blanket to wipe at the tears that gleamed on Cullen’s skin. Uncaring that she was naked, she stared at the former templar for a moment, taking in his unruly hair, mussed from sleep and her fingers, the muscled arms, dotted with scars, his hands. The blankets were pulled up to his waist, and she reached down, tugging them up further, leaning down to press a small kiss to his cheek.

Cullen stirred, shifting slightly, and then relaxed on the bed, only when he was still once more did she move, crossing to the wardrobe. She dressed quickly, casting glances back towards Cullen, making sure he was still sleeping, and as she tugged her boots on, every movement was stealthy and quiet, but she moved with determination as she dressed. Finally she slipped down the new stairs in his quarters, tugging open one door just enough to slip through them, and carefully easing them shut.

Talise stopped on the ramparts, sighing as she looked up at the night sky. Overhead shooting stars occasionally tore across the sky, while others hung in place, twinkling in the almost fathomless blue sky above her head. A small motion at her feet caught her attention, and she looked down, a small cat, a dark gray tabby, curled around her ankles, rubbing his sleek head against her boots. A soft smile curved her lips as she picked the cat up, and cuddled it to her chest, rubbing beneath its chin affectionately.

“Oh no, he’s sleeping. I’ll find you something to eat, but let Cullen sleep.” Gently she carried the cat to the kitchen, sneaking a few pieces of meat for the cat to nibble on.

With the cat tucked in her arms, she made her way past Solas, who was still sleeping, walking with spirits through the Fade, and up into the rookery. Leliana and Zevran sat a table, papers spread out between them, whispering to each other. The cat meowed, batting at Talise’s fingers as she walked, and both spymaster and former Antivan Crow looked up, as Talise walked towards them.

“Ahhhh.. my water lily. I did not expect to hear from you, I thought you would be exhausted from your reunion with Cullen. It is only the second night you have been back in his arms, no?” Zevran’s lips curled in a wicked smile as he spoke, setting down the parchment he had been reading.

Leliana smirked at Zevran’s words, nodding in agreement, “Perhaps the Commander needs a lesson or two in romance.”

Talise’s cheeks heated up at the gentle teasing, she shook her head no, “Considering I’ve been told I’ve been heard through the hole in his roof, I would think you would know better.”

“Touche Talise”, Leliana grinned at her.

“I thought I’d find both of you here. I need to talk.”

Zevran motioned to a chair beside him, lifting a stack of reports off of it, “The Spymaster and I have been talking over a few things. I helped shed a little light on some things, and Alistair will be pleased with what I’ve learned.”

“So you’re taking the position then?” Talise eased into the chair, the almost grown kitten finding a spot in her lap and curling up as soon as she was settled.

“Yes. Alistair begrudgingly admitted you were right. He wants you for the job, but he knows you won’t take it.” The blonde elf grinned at Talise, nudging her with one arm.

“Talise, is something on your mind?” The determination, and focus, that Talise had was easily seen by the spymaster, and Leliana leaned back in her chair as she studied Talise through icy blue eyes.

The assassin sighed, sinking further into the chair until she was comfortable, meeting Leliana’s curious gaze steadily, “I cannot be hauled before the full court to answer questions again, Leliana.”

“You’re right. You cannot. I have explained to Christopher that your work can not be brought to light.” The Inquisition’s spymaster, the Left Hand of the Divine, readily agreed, “I am sorry but he would not listen. I have said however, that none of the scouts or spies working for me are to be questioned again, and that includes you. And I doubt Christopher would risk the wrath of Alistair.”

“If he is smart, he will not, the Inquisition needs Ferelden’s support. But I need to work… uninterrupted. Free of any constraints.” Talise chewed on her lip thoughtfully, her fingers sunk into the cat’s fur, gently petting it as she spoke.

“How do you propose that my water lily?” Zevran lifted a brow at her, his gaze curious.

“I need to work as the Ghost, uninterrupted, free of the rules Christopher has placed upon us. The Herald wants this war fought with honor and dignity.”

“But there are things that need doing that he does not understand”, Leliana nodded, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. The spymaster surveyed Talise through cool blue eyes, taking in the assassin, the determined but calm look on Talise’s delicate features, “You will need help in this, you’re not talking about a single target anymore.”

“I would like to take the scouts I’ve been training, as well as anyone who wants to help.” Talise’s fingers gently rubbed between the cat’s ears as she spoke, gently petting the small animal.

“That is easily done enough.” Leliana nodded, sitting back comfortably in her chair, “The companions don’t always go with Christopher when he leaves on Inquisition business, so if they are here.”

“Won’t that put them in a delicate position?” Zevran arched a blonde brow over molten green and gold eyes, “I’m assuming that whatever Talise is doing this will be done with… ahem… some secrecy. The companions will have to either deny they are helping her, or outright lie about it.”

“We will leave it to them, I will speak to them individually about it, and they can make their own decisions," Leliana scribbles a few notes down a spare piece of parchment, pausing as her gaze flicks to Talise, “What are you going to tell Cullen?”

“I don’t interfere with his work, I’m going to ask that he doesn’t interfere with mine”, Talise shifted in her chair, wincing as the cat sunk its teeth into her fingers, eager for the last bite of meat she still held.

“He believes like Christopher, that we should fight this war with honor and dignity.” Leliana said, one gloved hand gesturing down towards the training ring, empty now in the dark, pre-dawn hours.

“But he is more of a realist, I think, than Christopher”, Zevran spoke again, leaning over to pet the cat Talise was cradling.

“This is true. He will see the need for it although he will not like it. I will leave that to you Talise.” Leiliana reached across the table, laying her hand atop the assassins, “I will take the matter to the Herald and Inquisition, but since you work for me, go ahead and start your work Talise. I will back you in this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Leliana gave her free reign, the Ghost of Ferelden went work, commandeering a small room tucked deep within the keep, the doorway tucked into a shadowy niche. Several tables were brought in, and Talise covered them with rolls of blank parchment, quill pens, ink bottles, and stacks of maps. Several trips through the main keep later, and a trunk was brought in, stuffed to the brim with vials of poisons, carefully organized with labels on them. A second trunk, loaded with weapons, sat against one wall, and Talise found a large map, nearly as big as the one that topped the war table which she pinned to one wall.

“If I were to take a guess, I would say you’re setting up an assassin’s guild within Skyhold”, Varric mused from the doorway, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against one side of the door frame.

“I’m not that ambitious Varric. But I am changing the rules a bit.” Talise stepped down from the chair she was using to pin the top of the map into the wall, well above her reach.

“Changing what rules?” the surface dwarf leaned in, surveying the stacks of parchment sitting atop the desk.

“Of this war. Christopher wants us to fight a war with honor and chivalry, and that’s a good way to fight to fight a war,", she moved soundlessly to a nearby trunk, flipping it open to reveal gleaming bottles of poison, organized by type.

“But Corypheus isn’t going to fight that way,".

“No, and fighting with honor and chivalry is a good way to lose a war. If we lose this war, Thedas falls,".

“Does Nightingale know what you’re up to?” still in the doorway, Varric leaned in, almost as if he was going to step in, one of his eyebrows shooting up as he saw Talise’s display of poisons.

“Yes she does. And Varric, if you step inside that door, I will take it as a sign that you’re in. If you’re in, there is no backing down.” Talise held up a hand, stopping the dwarf, “And if you’re in, you’re going to have to lie to Christopher, or not tell him what is going on. Can you handle that?”

“I don’t consider not telling someone something the same thing as lying to them”, Varric grinned, stepping into the room, followed by Amelia, who breezed in, despite the dark circles under her eyes. The dwarf’s eyebrow rose again at the storm mage, “Still having troubles with romance?”

“I’m not going to talk about that at the moment.” Amelia flopped into a nearby chair and immediately dropped her blonde head onto her arms with a sigh.

“Too busy trying to see if you can drown your sorrows in a bottle of rum?” Varric grinned, the master storyteller and thief had seen Amelia in the tavern the previous night, going drink for a drink with Iron Bull and his Chargers.

“Yeah, that didn’t work either. I may have also thrown myself at Bull.” Amelia groaned the words out, lifting her head enough to peek up at Varric through a mass of untidy blonde curls.

Talise, standing in front of her poisons, a checklist in her hands, let out a snort and rolled her eyes, “Did he take you up on the offer?”

“No. Dorian didn’t seemed bothered by it when I apologized just now, thank the Maker”, the storm mage’s answer was muffled by her arms as she rested her head atop them.

A pair of stormy eyes peeked into the room, as Valissia leaned in, her arms full of books, “I heard you asked for some books from the library, and I brought them here. What are you doing Talise?”

“She’s going to give you the speech,", Varric looked up from his spot at the table, grinning at Valissia, “About how that if you walk into this room, you’re in and there is no backing down.”

“When exactly have I ever backed down from anything?” Valissia frowned at Varric, stepping into the room to drop a load of books onto a small table against the wall. She took in the room, maps tacked to the walls, weapons and poisons displayed, and an auburn eyebrow lifted, “What are you planning Talise?”

“Do you want me to tell you or do you want to maintain some distance?” Talise picked up a bottle from a rack of potions, shaking the vial until the separated contents merged together into one deep green liquid, while she examined the contents with a critical eye.

“Distance? Or deniability?” Valissia queried, her rain-cloud eyes widening as she took in the room.

“Both I think”, Varric answered, digging a small vial from his pocket and sliding it across the table to Amelia, “Here Moody, this should help with that headache.”

Before the storm mage could answer, several of the scouts Talise had been training seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and slipped into the room. Talise continued to work through her checklist of poisons, waiting for the last few scouts and spies to slip into the room. Once every spot had been filled at the table, with Sera sitting on a small side table next to the books Valissia had brought in and Cole was perched atop a trunk full of weapons, Talise set down her checklist, and turned to face the curious faces all looking at her.

“Right now, you have a decision to make. Whether you want to stick with me and see this through to the end, or leave. What I am going to start doing is dangerous, and we will be on our own,", Talise could not fight the smile that curled her lips when Zevran leaned in, and she motioned him in, “Left the door open just for you.”

“Thank you my water lily”, Zevran moved to stand behind Amelia, who pushed herself back from her chair, and gestured to the former Crow. As soon as Zevran was in the chair, Amelia plopped herself into his lap, ignoring the surprised look from Valissia, and leaned her aching head against the elf’s shoulder. Zevran for his part, seemed nonplussed by Amelia’s actions, and rubbed her back with one hand while he surveyed the room.

“The Herald wants this war fought with honor, and chivalry. But this is not a dispute among nobles about lands, or trading rights. Corypheus is not going to give us the same treatment,", Talise began, pointedly ignoring Amelia’s position, or Valissia’s suddenly pale face, “To best serve the Inquisition, and to best fight this war, we must fight from the shadows. Use every talent we have, every skill we have, every poison, every weapon.”

Around the room as the new Bann of Nightreach spoke, heads nodded in agreement with her, and even Sera leaned forward, listening intently. Talise had positioned the tables to form a wide U, and into the gap Talise stepped, her boots scuffing quietly against the stone floors.

“We have been given leave to operate outside of the Inquisition. There are two sides to this, first, if we are caught, the Herald and leaders of the Inquisition will publicly disavow any knowledge of us or our missions, and we will be left to whatever fate awaits us," Talise paused for a moment, and took a deep breath, “But it gives us greater latitude to operate as we see fit. No one will again stand in front of the Herald and be questioned by Josephine, the Herald, or even the King of Ferelden. But in return, we are on our own.”

Talise paused, watching as the scouts looked at each other, several started to grin and smile at Talise’s words; she knew well the irritation at having to fight from the shadows leashed by someone’s ideas of honor, and she was glad to be able to fight on her own terms. Excitement started to grow within the room, Sera bounced on her spot on a table, and Varric shared a grin with Zevran.

“Right now, I am giving you one opportunity. What we will do will be far more dangerous than even what we have been doing before. There will be no more official or unofficial escorts from the soldiers, no protection from any enemy we face, and the Herald will not use the Inquisition’s reputation to save us. If this is too dangerous for you, and I understand why it would be, then leave now.”

No one moved from their spots, and Talise could not help the gratified smile that lifted her features. She moved to the end of one of the tables, and eased onto the polished surface, folding her legs in front of her.

“So what are we going to do?” a scout asked, gesturing to the poisons and weapons sitting on one wall.

“What we do best. We will use every talent, every skill we have, we will lie, steal, cheat, and kill to turn the odds in the Inquisition’s favor. No one can know what we are doing, this way, no one is technically lying about what we are doing. Zevran, this means keeping all of this from your prospective employer.” Talise’s sharp, summer bright gaze swung to the Antivan Crow as she spoke.

Zevran lifted the shoulder Amelia was not leaning on in a shrug, and grinned up Talise, “I’m sure he would prefer to be left in the dark about certain things.”

“So you took the job then?” Valissia looked up from the list of poisons Talise had handed her.

“I did, my rose. I will do what I can from Denerim for the Inquisition, and for this pet project of Talise’s, but I will be there and not here.” Looking supremely comfortable with Amelia curled up in his lap, Zevran continued to rub the storm mage’s back in comforting circles, the movement speaking of their long years of friendship.

“Amelia’s going to have to find a new seat then”, Varric remarked, the statement earning him a round of laughter from several of the spies.

“I may just go off to Denerim with him”, the storm mage replied back, rubbing at her aching temples.

“So you’re going to be all stealthy and killing people in the dark then”, Sera questioned, kicking her feet back and forth as she sat perched on the table.

Talise nodded, a determined glint in her summer bright eyes, “Exactly. Our goal is to get as much information, to take care of as many targets, as we possibly can, as quietly as we can.”

“How do we do that?” Cole queried from his spot on a trunk of weapons, his watery eyes had remained focused on Talise as she spoke.

“However you want. Let me be clear, I don’t care what you do or when you do it, as long as it gets results. I have never asked any of you to do anything you had any moral objections to, and that still stands. But as long as you are comfortable with it, do it.” Talise answered Cole honestly as she always had. Her honesty with the half-spirit had put her at odds with Solas, but she had believed that Cole alone should determine his fate, and that belief was still apparent.

“So what now?” Sera queried, sliding from the table, curiosity gleaming in her gaze.

“Right now, we start with the problem we are facing. How exactly did the House of Repose get into Skyhold and to their targets twice, in less than a week?”

“They had spies obviously. But how do we catch them?”

“There are three main motivators for us in life. Every contract I’ve ever been offered has come down to three things: sex, money, or power. But those things are also weaknesses, we get greedy for more of those things, or we need to keep what we are doing to get those things secret, and that is something we can exploit.” Talise circled the table as she talked, flicking her fingers up as she walked up and down.

“So we need to track who is sleeping with whom, who owes money to who, things like that?” a scout spoke up, nodding to the stacks of parchment, “And start a record of it?”

“Exactly. We need to know everything about everyone. The secrets they keep why they are keeping them. The people with the most secrets to keep are most likely the ones who could be turned and would be passing along information. Or who would ignore a spy slipping in?” Talise nodded in agreement, “From here on out, all the information you have gathered comes here, and we will sort it out. What can be passed along to Leliana we will, but most of it stays within this room.”

“The Fereldan ambassador as taken a templar for a lover", the same scout queried.

“The same ambassador who married a Bann’s daughter? If she seeks an annulment from the Chantry, he will lose the lands and his title, he was just a knight before he married her.” Another scout answered.

Talise grinned then, nodding and moving to stand at the head of the table, “Excellent observations. Yes, he was a knight but not landed nobility before he married. Any lands and his title comes through her, and if the marriage is dissolved, he could be stripped of that. He will want to keep this affair a secret. And if we know this, any spy or agent acting for Corypheus or anyone else will.”

One of the scouts frowned slightly, brows drawing together before looking up at Talise, “If we are out on a mission, and we are caught, or need to hide, where do we go?”

“Unofficially you can go to any Inquisition camp. However, I have contacts of my own scattered around Thedas, you will be able to stay with them. If all else fails, go to Nightreach. The keep can withstand a direct assault, and I can protect you there.” Talise pointed to the large map she had pinned to the wall earlier, where Nightreach was carefully marked and outlined, “You can get in and out by ship, or along  the beach, without being seen.”

“Using that title to your own ends already?” Varric questioned.

“No, doing exactly what I was told to do when I was given it. Do as much good with my title and influence as I possibly can,” Talise answered.

Valissia had been remarkably quiet as Talise laid-out her plan, her auburn brows drawing together occasionally, “Does the Herald know about this?”

“Leliana was going to explain to the Herald and other advisors while I set this up. So by now, yes he does know.” It took a moment for Talise to answer, her teeth sunk into her lip as she looked at her friend. Valissia was in the same spot she was in; forced to do what she felt best, which meant kept secrets from someone she cared deeply about.

“I’m going to have to lie to him.” Valissia’s stormy gaze dropped to the table, and she stared at nothing in particular, while her fingers traced absent patterns in the table’s gleaming surface.

Talise’s gaze softened with understanding, and the affection she felt for one of her best friends, “We’re all going to have to lie to him, but yes, you are. I’m going to have to keep secrets from Cull… Commander Rutherford.”

“I think by now you can say Curly’s name Talise”, Varric murmured, leaning over to place a comforting hand on Valissia’s shoulder.

“If you can’t, or don’t want to do this, I won’t hold it against you. But you have to leave now.”

The same guilt that had driven Valissia to Val Royeaux with Talise rose once more, and the spirit mage shook her head no, “I’m not abandoning you. I will deal with the consequences of this on my own.”

“Christopher will understand. So will Cullen”, Amelia spoke then, her eyes flicking between her two friends as they sat at the table.

“We’re at war. We must use every opportunity we can to win it", a scout murmured, and Talise nodded in approval.

“Well then, if we’re all in agreement. Let’s get started. First, we need to thoroughly investigate every person in this Keep. We need to know their secrets, who they sleep with, who they want to sleep with, who they owe money to, who they support in the civil war in Orlais, their opinions on everything. No detail is too small to be overlooked.”

“I can get you what information I have on anyone with ties to Kirkwall,", Varric spoke, pushing himself up from the table.

“And I can get you everything the Red Jenny’s have too.” Sera walked to the door, opening it and slipping outside.

“For now, let’s get started working on our investigation into the Repose assassins. Someone in this keep knew they were here, both times, and said nothing, I’d wager.” Talise gestured with one hand towards the main hall where the keep full of people were starting to wake up for their day.

“Wait… we need a name”, one of the scouts, a young woman from Denerim, with a bright intelligence gleaming in her dark eyes spoke. For a moment, everyone looking at each other, some of them shrugging.

An elven scout spoke then, looking at Talise, “Lady Talise is the Ghost of Ferelden. We should be something like that.”

“The Wraiths. We’ll be the Wraiths.” Another scout spoke, offering a suggestion. A round of smiles broke out across the people standing in the room, heads nodding in agreement.

“Oh, before I forget. I took the opportunity to claim something of yours back from the Inquisition”, Zevran spoke, shifting Amelia in his lap so he could more easily reach behind him. In a moment he withdrew a familiar, gray leather journal, now closed with an expensive looking deep gray ribbon. He held the journal out to Talise, “I thought you might want this back.”

Zevran was holding the journal she had brought to the Inquisition, listing all the work she had done, going back to the night she claimed her first target. Talise took it, a wide smile brightening her face as she looked at the journal, running her fingertips along the spine.

Amelia grinned from her spot on Zevran’s lap, “I have some fond memories in that book.”

“It’s an interesting read”, Varric spoke up, gesturing to Talise.

Valissia rose from her spot at the table, and walked to Talise, holding her hand out for the book. When Talise handed it to her, the storm mage walked to a small table, set underneath the giant map on the wall, and carefully laid it atop the table, sliding it around until it was perfectly positioned in the center of the small table, “There, The Book of Ghost has its proper place. Now then… where we were?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For most of the day, Talise worked.  The scouts and spies had put their information together, producing several detailed reports on ambassadors and dignitaries, servants, soldiers, anyone who had caught their attention. Varric had slipped away and returned with a small book filled with information, Sera had brought in several letters from various Red Jennys, and Cole had, in his off fashion, recounted the different things he had seen. Valissia and Amelia had checked the stores of herbs for the plants needed to make poisons and potions, and Magdalena had taken over a small section of Skyhold’s garden, planting seeds and sprouts to start a poison garden.

Cullen had left a meeting with the Inquisitor, Josephine and Leliana stony faced and irritable. His amber gaze had strayed to the hallway that led to the room where Talise had gathered her group, and he stood in the main keep, ignoring several remarks from people around him, staring down the darkened, shadowy hallway. Finally he muttered something about going to work and strode angrily away. He had not lasted half an hour in his office before he burst from the doors and headed for the practice rings.

The Commander of the Inquisition’s Army had sparred with his soldiers, barking orders, outlasting everyone, until his joints ached, his head was pounding, and his skin felt as though it would burst into flame. His armor and surcoat had been cast off, he stood in the ring in nothing but a pair of leather breeches, the muscles on his powerful frame clearly displayed as he leaned against the fence, his eyes closed, one calloused palm rubbing at the back of his neck.

“You always do this much training?” Alistair stood on the other side of the fence, the golden sun spilling over his reddish hair and bronzed skin, a knowing look gleamed in his brown eyes as spoke, “Or are you working your anger off?”

“You’ve heard then?” Cullen shoved away from the fence angrily, raking a hand through his mussed hair.

“My new Spymaster informed this morning. He is aiding Talise in her endeavor.” Alistair, well aware that eyes and ears watched them, murmured the words, beckoning Cullen to him. As the Commander walked towards him, the King of Ferelden raised his voice, “Commander, I would very much like to spend a few moments in the chapel. I need to… pray.”

For a moment Cullen stared at him, before nodding in agreement, his chest rising as he heaved a sigh, “Give me a moment to clean up, and I will show you the chapel off the garden.”

Within a few minutes, Cullen and Alistair were walking around the garden, boots echoing off the stones as they walked. Magdalena and Valissia were planting seeds, and Amelia was carefully separating some seedlings, readying them for planting, in a small section of the garden that had been carefully marked off.

“Do you know it’s rumored the Antivan Crows got their start growing poisons?” Alistair spoke, nodding in return to the three mages, who curtseyed at the sight of him.

“I believe I’ve read that somewhere”, Cullen held the door to the small chapel open for Alistair, and followed Alistair in afterwards, closing it firmly behind them.

“Now…” Alistair’s voice broke the growing silence, “Talise has recruited a group of spies within the Inquisition.”

“She wants to operate outside the rules of the Inquisition, in the shadows, with no protection.” Cullen nearly shouted the words, wincing as the sound echoed in the small room.

“She has done that for years Cullen. Long before you.” Alistair said calmly, leaning against a small table, his arms crossed over his still well-muscled chest.

“You cannot be this calm about it! One of your own nobles is going to work as an assassin, a spy,", Cullen frowned at Alistair, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling.

Alistair shook his head at Cullen, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against a small table, “I am not this calm. I am unhappy about it. I should have forced Talise to stay in the keep when she was young before she went to stay in Rivain. I should have made Jordan keep her with him,”

“You’re her liege lord. If you order…” the words trailed off even as Cullen spoke them, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Alistair’s brown eyes widened as Cullen spoke, and he shook his head at the former templar, “No, do not even say it. She would likely renounce her claims to Nightreach before she would allow herself to be ordered around.”

“What am I supposed to do??”

“Let her do what she does best. Listen to me, I personally have tracked every single one of Ghost’s known targets. She is good at what she does. Outside of a minor misstep in Starkhaven, she has never come close to being caught. See to it that she has the weaponry she needs, the people she has, and then….” Alistair trailed off, looking towards the altar where candles were scattered around the base of the statue of Andraste.

Cullen sighed, letting his head droop forward, staring at his boots. In his upset over Talise’s newly hatched plans, he did not catch the implications behind Alistair knowing of Talise’s movements so carefully, his normally alert eyes were worried as he looked up to his friend, “You didn’t see her.”

“What?”

“She went after a group of Venatori by herself. Unarmored. Tore after them after they attacked an Inquisition camp. Came back to Skyhold on her own and showed up in my quarters bleeding, her arm nearly cut to the bone.” Cullen closed his eyes at the memory, shaking his head.

“That is the first time I have ever heard of her getting hurt.” Alistair frowned in response.

“Her blood stained my desk. I see it every day.”

Alistair nodded in understanding, “I have felt responsible for her for years, but more so since Haven. Jordan said once that he was afraid Talise would put the needs of others above her own safety.”

“She will. She does. I love her for it.”

“So this is serious then? Not some casual…”

Cullen blinked at Alistair’s insinuation, his cheeks flushing slightly in response. “No, it’s nothing casual.”

“You need to talk to her. But more importantly, you have to respect her decisions, whether you agree with them or not.” Alistair laid a comforting hand on Cullen’s shoulder, and nodded towards the door, “I am sure Ambassador Montilyet is searching for me. Lovely woman, but I could do without another luncheon with the nobility.”

As the King of Ferelden opened the doors, he came up short. Standing in front of the doors, looking up at him through summer bright eyes was Talise herself. Her hair hung down her back in a cascade of chocolate dark waves, revealing the delicate structure of her face, high cheekbones, the almost dainty curve of her chin.

A brief flash of some deep, long hidden want surfaced in Alistair’s deep caramel gaze, but it was quickly replaced by a smile, “Ahhh… just the lady we were talking about. Were your ears burning, Bann Montgomery?”

“Your Majesty.” Talise bowed slightly, her movements easy and graceful, “And no they weren’t. I was told Commander Rutherford was here. I’m not interrupting?”

“He is, and no you are not. I have some business to attend to,", Alistair leaned down, brushing Talise’s long hair away from her ear to whisper into it, “Talk to him. He is worried. And more than a little scared for you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty”, Talise peeked around Alistair’s arm to see Cullen, who watched her from the corner of his eyes.

Alistair stood in front of Talise for a moment, studying her features intently, before he stepped past her, and strode towards the main hall, followed by his ever-present guards. Talise stood in the doorway, her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she gazed at Cullen across from her. He stood almost in profile to her, staring at her from the corner of his eyes. His anger was palpable, he was stiff with it, his back perfectly straight, his shoulders back, one hand clenched in a fist while the other rubbed at the perpetual sore muscles on his neck.

“You’re angry”, it was more a statement than a question as she slipped into the room, the heavy doors falling closed behind her. “

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cullen turned to face her, his features angry, but his eyes were dark with pain.

Talise had expected an argument, a lecture about her safety and protecting her, but in the face of Cullen’s hurt, and his fear, her single-minded determination wavered. One slim fingered hand reached out for his, slowly curling her fingers around his, “Because the less you know the better.”

Cullen’s arm twitched when Talise reached for him, he fought off the urge to crush her to him, to spirit her away to his sister’s, to Nightreach, to some far flung corner of Thedas where Corypheus could not reach. After a long pause, he sighed, “I will not ask you to stop. This is your life, and you have been making your own decisions for far longer than I’ve even known of you. Do you understand how hard it is for me to know what you are doing?”

“About as hard as it for me to know you’ll be leading an army into battle”, Talise whispered the words, her gaze locked on the tips of her boots as a sudden rush of tears sparkled in her gaze.

It was the way her fingers tightened around his that undid Cullen, his anger and hurt faded, and instead he saw Talise has he always had, a woman struggling to do the right thing in horrible circumstances, a woman who was deeply unsure of herself, even as she was sure of her skills. When so many saw Ghost, or a common-born woman raised to nobility, he saw the woman who loved flowers, who knew the stars, who hand-fed the cats that made Skyhold their home, and who has rescued a hatchling bird.

He stepped away from the wall he had been leaning against, at the same time he pulled on her hand, his free arm sliding around her waist and tugging him to her. Talise lifted herself onto her tiptoes, curling her arms around his neck, a shiver running through her as her bare arms brushed against the cool metal of his arm.

“I do not want to lose you.” The words were said into her neck, where he had pressed his face, breathing in the scent of the water lily soap she used.

“You’re not going to. There is nothing I will not do to come back to you.” Talise whispered the words, her hands sliding into hair, mussing it without a care, “Listen to me Cullen, there is no line I will not cross. All of my rules, the code I lived by, none of it matters.”

“Andraste preserve me, I meant what I said. I do not care whose blood is on your hands when you come back. Just come back Talise,", Cullen sighed, wrapping both arms around Talise’s frame and cradling her to him.

Talise pulled back, just enough to look up at Cullen through a waterfall of dark hair, which he gently swept away from her high cheekbones with a large hand before she spoke, “Can you get away for a little while?”

“Perhaps… why?” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, while he tried to remember the things he needed to do, what he had put off to first spar in the practice ring, and then come here to talk with Alistair.

“Because, I need to take a break. And Demon needs to be let out to hunt. I thought maybe you would want…”

“Yes”, he breathed the words out before Talise had finished speaking, “Yes, I can take some time away.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talise finds the person responsible for the attack on Josephine and Cullen. In her haste to catch him, the Ghost of Ferelden makes a mistake that may have deadly repercussions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the gigantic delay. I got sidetracked, the muses ran away, and if it could go wrong with my house, it has.   
> And yeah, this is a cliff-hanger, because in addition to being slow to update, I'm also a bit of a shit.
> 
> I have this headcanon that Bull, especially once you to get to know him, is a giant walking cuddler. He's always down for a hug, a cuddle or snuggles.

 

Talise and the newly formed Wraiths had hunted through Skyhold for any remaining spies, assassins, or anyone else who could compromise the Inquisition. She was more intent on finding and tracking down anyone involved in the attacks on Josephine and Cullen and had pursued any lead with a dogged persistence. The Ghost of Ferelden had taken on the task as a personal one, and this morning the Wraith’s had been sent on various other tasks, several of them slipping from Skyhold in the gray mist of pre-dawn.

She had been coldly efficient in tracking down anyone who might have had contact with the spies, slowly circling the noose as she pieced together exactly who had played what part in the attacks. Sky touched eyes as sharp as the daggers she had strapped to her back watched the courtyard from a shadowy spot beneath the portcullis on the main gate. A few silvers had paid for a merchant to leave his heavily loaded wagon on part of the walkway; the move tightened traffic and created a perfect chokehold for Talise to watch. She knew from an intercepted raven that one of the Repose’s spies was going to try to leave Skyhold and take as much information as he possibly could.

Iron Bull strode across the courtyard, wrapped in the brightly painted armor of a Qunari soldier, not trying to blend in with the crowds milling about. Too tall and broad to hide, he chose to stand out, and his presence would further attract attention, giving Talise even more room to work from the shadows. Once at the main gate, he leaned against the wall, and propped his massive, two-handed axe against his good leg, “You’re using me as a distraction, I see.”

Bull had seemingly spoke to thin air, but at his words, the shadows beside the merchant’s wagon rustled, shifting, blurring into the form of Talise, who grinned at him from beneath the hood of her cloak, “Well yes. I need someone tall to hide behind.”

Despite the physical differences between them, Iron Bull and Talise shared many similarities, and a respect that had grown to a deep friendship. If Talise was not with Cullen, odds were high that she was with Bull and his Chargers, training with them or watching them drink too much. Bull had yet to manage to get Talise drunk, but he had loudly proclaimed it would happen at least once before the war was over. He lifted his head, motioning with his chin to the people in the courtyard, “Do you have any idea who this one is?”

“You know that silk merchant that came in after Belle joined?” looking down at her arm, Talise flexed her wrist, satisfied when she heard a metallic click, and a dagger slid out from beneath the ebony vambrace she wore.

Bull eyed the dagger, he knew Talise well enough to know she kept all of her daggers and weapons sharp, and heavily favored poisons, from his spot he could see the faint trace of a yellowy green poison clinging to the blade, “Yes, I do. It’s not him is it?”

“No. One of his assistants. Poor soul had no idea that the friend that asked him to do him a favor and take on an apprentice was a Repose plant.” When Talise curled her fingers into a fist, and curled her hand towards her wrist, the dagger slid back into place.

“Nice… did Dagna make that for you?” Bull held out one gigantic hand as he spoke, and when Talise placed her hand in his, he automatically stretched her palm out, carefully aiming away from himself.

“Her and Varric. Although Varric mostly talked while Dagna worked”, Talise grinned, relaxing her arm and letting Bull flex her hand this way and that, “You want one?”

“Nah, I’m good”, Bull nodded towards his axe, still propped against his thigh, with a care belying his massive stature, he leaned down, sniffing at the dagger as he tugged on Talise’s wrist, “That smells like the one they dosed Cullen with.”

As casually as they stood, Bull examining Talise’s newest weapon, the assassin was carefully watching the crowds as they moved about the courtyard, her gaze taking in each person as they made their way to the gates, “It is. They used a Nevarran poison, but they didn’t have access to all the herbs, so they substituted. I managed to duplicate the recipe last night, Valissia wanted to make an antidote. And I liked the idea of...”

“Revenge?”, Bull finished for her, nodding in approval, “It will get back to those Orlesian assholes that you cracked their recipe, give them another reason to leave Skyhold alone.”

For a few moments they lapsed into silence, Iron Bull moving his axe, so it leaned against the wall, and Talise leaning comfortably against the giant Qunari. Just as she was with Zevran, Talise was physically comfortable with Bull, something that had raised eyebrows when they sat through meetings with her feet propped in his lap.

With Talise resting against his chest, Bull raked a hand through her silky dark hair, eyeing the ends critically, “It’s almost time for a trim… You doing it or did you want me to?”

“Is Dorian going to get mad if you cut my hair again?” Talise knew the answer would be no, even if things between Iron Bull and the Tevinter mage were unsettled, neither begrudged the friendship Talise had formed with each of them.

Bull snorted, knowing full well Talise was goading him, and shook his head, “It’s not like we’re sharing a bed Morning Glory. It’s just trimming your hair.”

“So, you _are_ sharing a bed with him then?” Talise leaned back enough to look up into Bull’s face, watching his reaction carefully.

Just as carefully as Talise watched him, Bull was careful to keep his features neutral, one shoulder lifting in a shrug, “Beneath all the bluster, Dorian is a sweet man. If he wants something more, we’ll have more.”

She knew enough to leave the subject alone, and nodded, resettling her smooth cheek against Bull’s scarred chest, “What do you think about Vivienne?”

“I think she knows that we stand the best odds of defeating this magister asshole. And that any prestige the Inquisition gains, she will as well. She plays the Game well”, Bull’s voice rumbled as he watched the crowds, “What do you think about Solas?”

“There’s something there. Some deep knowledge of some kind” Talise lifted her head from Bull’s chest, her eyes narrowing on a boy as he wove through the crowd, “But I have no proof of anything, it’s just a feeling.”

“He plays a damn good game of chess though”, Bull had felt the ripple of movement as Talise moved, felt the subtle shift of her muscles, and he reached almost casually for the haft of his war axe, “That the kid?”

“Not him.” Talise resumed her pose, soaking in the warmth of the sunshine as she leaned comfortably against Bull, “Blackwall?”

“Good warrior knows what he’s doing with a sword and shield. Hiding something though”, Bull relaxed, slouching comfortably against the wall behind him as Talise leaned into him, “You’ve changed Talise, in the time you’ve been here.”

As Bull spoke, she blinked, caught off-guard by the change in conversation, and she lifted her head off his chest to look up at the Qunari, “What do you mean?”

“You were broken when you got here. A ghost. No pun intended” Bull rumbled, looking down at Talise’s delicate face, “Your hurt was visible to everyone. And then you were angry. I watched you tear through Venatori, spies, rogue templars, rebel mages. Anyone who got in your way.”

Talise nodded, her small teeth sinking into her lip.

“I was afraid you were going to drown in blood sometimes. Figuratively and literally. The only time I saw any glimpse of something besides anger was when you read your mail. Cullen’s good for you Morning Glory.” Bull smiled affectionately down at Talise, running the back of one hand over her pale cheek.

A flush tinted Talise’s cheeks as she laid her head back on Bull’s chest, watching the people in the courtyard once more, “He is.”

“And you’re good for him. Man like that is carrying a heavy burden. He needs someone to remind him of life outside his quarters. And you need someone to remind you to come out of the shadows.” Grinning, Bull leans back against the wall once more.

The two of them stayed in the courtyard through the morning, watching the crowds, chatting between the two of them. At various points in time some of the Charges watched with them, Sera spent a good part of the morning working on her bow while chatting with Bull and Talise.

“Here, I brought some pastries”, Amelia held out a basket full as she walked up to where Bull and Talise stood. Dark circles rimmed her emeraldine eyes, and she was far more pale than usual, evidence of another sleepless night.

“Stitches has a potion that will cure that hangover. Might want to lay off drinking with the Chargers Amelia”, Bull held out the arm not resting comfortably on Talise’s shoulder, and Amelia took the invitation. Within moments her head was snuggled against Bull’s chest, although she closed her eyes rather than watch the courtyard.

“Are you going to tell me what is going on? You promised me you would”, Talise had not moved when Amelia had brought them food, although her summer bright gaze lingered on the basket of pastries that now sat on the wagon.

“I know I did. And... it’s just… I will. When you’re done with this House of Repose thing, we’ll talk, and I’ll explain everything”, Amelia sighed, burrowing her face into Bull’s chest. The Qunari tightened his massive around her in response, letting her lean against him.

“I’m holding you to that.” Talise murmured, finally leaning away from Bull to grab a pastry. When half of the delicate, flaky dessert was shoved in her mouth, her cheeks puffed comically wide with food, she held one out for Bull.

“Nah, just bring the basket. And get back over here”, he rumbled, holding his arm out for Talise. Grinning, Talise did as she was told, although she leaned against Bull with her back to his chest, licking cream and fruit filling from her fingers.

“Doesn’t Cullen get jealous?” Amelia raised a brow at Talise’s relaxed posture.

“Of what??” Talise’s words were garbled as she spoke around another mouthful of pastry.

Amelia raised a hand and gestured to Talise, and then Iron Bull, “You two.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous of. Talise and I are friends. Not that kind of friends either. And Talise doesn’t look at me the way she looks at Cullen”, Bull stuffed two pastries in his mouth as he spoke.

“It kind of reminds me of Zevran. And that is the only person you’re like this with Talise”, Amelia murmured, her serpentstone eyes watching Talise as she shoved another pasty in her mouth.

“I’m comfortable with Bull. Like I am with Zevran. I’m comfortable with Cullen too, but he’s got appearances to keep up. Commander of the army and all”, her appetite satiated, Talise leaned back against Bull comfortably once more.

“I’m really just a substitute for Cullen.” Bull grinned, hugging both Talise and Amelia to him, “But I get to stand here with two beautiful women in my arms. I can’t complain.”

When Amelia left to go work on her spells, Talise had crawled atop the merchant’s wagon, and was sitting atop it, her leather covered legs dangling off the side. Bull was leaning against the side of the wagon, one of his arms wrapped around Talise’s leg, and his head carefully propped on her thigh, positioned to avoid gouging her with his horns, “So Talise… you gonna talk about Alistair at all?”

“What about him?” the assassin was rubbing the back of Bull’s head, feeling the prickle of the stubble of his hair against her fingers, “You need me to shave your head or you gonna have one of the Chargers do it?”

“You can shave it when I trim your hair”, Against her leg Bull grinned, “About how he looks at you.”

“How does it look at me?” Talise frowned at the top of Bull’s head as she spoke.

Bull snorted at her response, knowing she was not unobservant, “Rumor has it he accepted your oath and named you Bann to make you noble… because he can only marry nobility.”

It was Talise’s turn to snort, but her fingers had stilled on his head, “Oh please. I’m barely nobility. I’m half-Rivaini. The landsmeet would be in open rebellion if he even tried it.”

“Your mother was half Rivaini, so that makes you more Fereldan than Rivaini. It doesn’t matter how much nobility you are, you’re noble enough. He’s been on the throne ten years now, they’re getting desperate for an heir.” Bull did not lift his gaze from her leg, but he shifted, a boy, in the gangly stage between little boy and grown man, was making his way from the merchant’s stands.

“I don’t care how desperate they are, they would never accept a mercenary’s daughter on the throne”, Talise shook her head, her gaze following Bull’s, “That’s not him. But that one is friends with him.”

“Alistair has figured out how much power he actually wields. He could probably marry a mage right now and get away with it.” Bull’s gray gaze focused intently on the boy, who was talking to a passing maid, his cheeks bright with a blush.

“I’m not a mage. I’m an assassin. There is no way the landsmeet would allow it. And you’re forgetting something”, Talise rubbed gently at Bull’s horns, her sharp gaze taking in the small cracks forming. Bull was getting low on the salves and oils he used on his horns; and it was starting to show.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t want to be Queen of Ferelden. I don’t want to be queen of anything.”

“I don’t blame you. Still, you’re in an enviable position Talise.”

“You mean the part where I’m have a giant, handsome Qunari to lean against?” Talise grinned impudently up at Bull, reaching into the basket of pastries and holding out the last one to him.

“Nah. You get to pick between two handsome men. I bet if you played your cards right, you could have them both”, Bull took the pastry and matched Talise’s grin with one of his own.

“Bull!!” Talise’s face heated in a deep flush, until even the tops of her ears and her neck were splotchy with color, her reaction earning a grin from Bull.

Bull smirked, laying his head back down Talise’s thigh, “There are many women who would kill to be in your place. Alistair’s interested in you, and you have Cullen wrapped around your finger.”

“You were just telling me that I was good for Cullen.”

“You are. I’m not saying break things off with him. Just pointing out that he’s not the only one interested.”

“Yeah well… Alistair missed his chance”, Talise muttered, her body going stiff as she spotted the merchant’s apprentice. She slipped from the wagon, one hand reaching up for the scarf that hung around her neck, and drawing the black fabric up over her mouth, and then her nose.

Bull tugged Talise backwards to him, holding her small frame against his chest, leaning down to grab his axe at the same time he reached for his axe. “Breathe… relax. You spook him now you won’t catch him.”

“I know…” Talise forced herself to relax against Bull, her gaze locked on the apprentice as he crossed the courtyard.

Over her thundering heart, Talise was aware of a sharp, piercing shriek from overhead, Demon, who had been out hunting, was returning to Skyhold. Several more time the eagle shrieked, and Talise looked back towards the bridge that led towards the main gate, frowning as she watched a shadow shift once, then twice, “Bull…”

“Didn’t you warn off the House of Repose?” The Qunari murmured, turning his head one way and then the other, popping his neck several times.

“They’re not Orlesian.”

“Fucking Venatori…” Bull hissed out the words, watching the apprentice come to a stand in the courtyard. Standing in the gateway were Talise and Iron Bull, a formidable pair; past them, on the bridge, stood a pair of Venatori assassins, safe harbor for the spy. To make it to his freedom, he had to make it past the Ghost of Ferelden and the Captain of the Chargers, both of whom were staring at him.

The apprentice had not yet seen his 17th summer, but he had been fed a steady diet of Venatori fanaticism. It was nothing to come into the keep with an unknowing merchant, to sneak down to the gates and open them at night, to distract a serving girl taking food and drink to the war room. Too young to be truly scared, he dropped his belongings, except for the information he had been able to ferret out, and made at a run for the gates, while the Venatori rushed forward.

Demon shrieked again as she dove down, catching the apprentice’s shirt, and then sinking her talons into his neck. When the Venatori assassins revealed themselves, the alarm was sounded. Talise found herself fighting off one of the assassins, while Bull dispatched the other quickly, but in a rush, several more appeared, racing across the bridge. Intent on keeping the apprentice within Skyhold, and the Venatori out, Talise screamed for the gates to be lowered, just as the alarm was sounded. Within seconds, the gate had fallen into place, leaving Talise and Iron Bull on one side, fighting the Venatori spies off, and the apprentice on the other, screaming as Demon sunk her claws into his chest.

While Bull and Talise were preparing to catch the apprentice, Cullen, Christopher, and Alistair had been standing in the main hall, talking about repairs to the keep, fortifications still being built, and defending Denerim as well. Outside of his formal duties as king, Alistair was as warm and personable as he had been as a Grey Warden, and surprisingly eager to offer any advice he could. At Demon’s shrieks, the conversation had been cut short, all of them looking curiously towards the front of the main hall, where the main doors stood open.

“Is that Demon?” Christopher frowned in confusion, stepping away from Alistair and Cullen to walk towards the doors, his boots sinking deep into the deep red carpet. He stepped once, twice, and then the alarm was sounded, the bells and shouts of alarm echoing across the courtyard and up into the main hall. Christopher rushed forward, pushing past the guards, as did Cullen. Alistair shoved past his own personal guards, yelling for his sword as the three of them shoved past the panicked crowds in the main hall. Varric was already running down the stairs, Bianca on his shoulder as he ran.

The companions poured into the courtyard from different directions, as Bull and Talise battled the few remaining Venatori. Sera had the merchant’s apprentice pinned to the ground. Standing on the bridge, Talise slid a dagger into the neck of a Venatori, yanking it out with a vicious twist, an arc of crimson exploded from the man’s neck, splattering across Talise’s face. The assassin did not even flinch, and the dark red liquid dripped off her face as she looked for another target.

Breathing heavily, she looked up towards the main gate, and caught sight of Cullen as he pushed through the crowd. Her heart slammed into her ribs, her gaze focusing on him; she was unaware of the breeze shifting at her back. The dagger the Venatori held, as he materialized, gleamed in the light, the blade wickedly sharp. Iron Bull was too far away, and he had time to do nothing more than let out a roar of warning. It was enough, Talise’s focus on Cullen was broken, and she turned, the blade meant for her throat missed, sinking instead into her vambrace as she raised her arm.

Over the top of her vambrace, Talise stared at the Venatori, his face twisted with anger and rage. Without thought, she flicked the wrist of her free hand and the poisoned dagger tucked within the vambrace slid free, and she sunk the poisoned blade deep into the man’s exposed neck. The man stumbled backward, the dagger sliding free of his neck with a sickening squish, and another spurt of dark crimson blood splattered over Talise.

The stones, slick with blood from the fight, provided the Venatori no traction, and the dying man slipped, sliding to the edge. Just as the assassin slipped off the edge of the bridge, he snatched at Talise’s arm, a futile attempt to save himself. Unprepared for the move, and standing in a pool of the man’s blood, Talise slid across the stones, yanked towards the edge of the bridge.

Cullen shoved through the crowd, raising his voice, “Open the gates!! Now!!!”

“Maker no…” Alistair froze in place, his eyes round in shock as Talise was pulled to the edge of the bridge, finally managing to yank her arm free of the Venatori.

“No… no…” Cullen swore, banging one leather-clad hand ineffectually on the gate, the metal groaning as the soldiers started to push the mechanism to raise the gate. He watched in horror as Bull reached for Talise, and in a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity yet passed in the blink of an eye at the same time; the mercenary captain lost his grip, and she was pulled over the edge of the bridge. The air froze in his lungs, and his knees buckled, his amber eyes trained on the spot where Talise, spattered in blood, had just been standing. Cullen did not realize he had yelled, screamed, that it was his voice hanging in the shocked silence, did not feel Alistair’s hands catch him, holding him up, did not realize that Cassandra was yelling for the guards to hurry, to get the gates open. His worst fears had been realized, Talise was gone.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ghost of Ferelden manages to avoid death, but at what cost?  
> To save Talise, Valissia reveals a secret that may cost the spirit mage her life.   
> Amelia finally gives up her secrets, not to her friends, but to Dorian and Iron Bull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit y'all. When I laid out the notes for this chapter, I -knew- it was going to be a big one, I just had no idea how big it would be. Lots of action to unpack here.   
> I spent more time on Valissia and Amelia (who will get their own stand alone stories at some point in time), than I did Talise and Cullen. I needed to finish out their backstories, and that was intended for this scene. Incidentally, this scene was supposed to happen awhile ago, but things got in the way.   
> To make up for the lack of Cullen and Talise, there will be a pure smut chapter next update, I promise.

 

It happened so fast, one-minute Talise was staring at Cullen, the next she was pulled off the bridge by a dying Venatori. For a moment, her summer bright gaze was down, at the lethal drop beneath the bridge. Snow covered the sharp, jagged edges of cliffs, hiding the danger from view, suddenly they rushed up at her. Cullen’s yell of denial hung in the air, while the crowd behind the gate gasped in shock.

The sound of a staff slamming into the ground echoed as Valissia moved, summoning a shield. One slim stretched outwards the ever slowly opening gate, gold and silver sparks emanating from her hand, the other clutched her staff tightly. Her rain gray eyes glowed a pale blue, as she held her hand out towards the gates. 

Instead of falling to her death, Talise landed against a shimmery veil of a shield, gold sparkling with streaks of silver. The shield bulged as it caught her, slowing her fall and then pulling her back as the shield formed a perfect, ethereal bubble. The assassin’s fall caught by a shield that now held her in thin air, her summer bright gaze focused on the dangerously sharp rocks that reached up towards her from beneath the bridge.

Beyond the gate, which was still opening slowly, Cole’s form blinked into existence. His pale, watery eyes took in the scene before him, the dead Venatori, Bull froze in place, his giant axe dripping blood, and curve of a mage’s shield, hanging in the air, “This is wrong.”

The Iron Bull had frozen in place as Talise slipped off the edge of the bridge, a roar caught in his throat. When Cole’s had appeared on the edge of the bridge, and Talise’s yell echoed in the air, the Qunari took a breath, and in a moment, he was running across the bridge, falling to his knees and then his stomach, sliding to the edge of the bridge, uncaring that his armor was smeared with blood, “We can’t get though the shield!!”

“Valissia!!” Cassandra turned from the gate, to the spirit mage. The Seeker lost track of what she was going to say, her eyes going wide as she took in the sight before her. Valissia was doing the same thing Magdalena had done, she had summoned a spirit and was letting it possess her. When Bull and Cole shouted once more Cassandra shook herself, “Can you open the shield enough for them to get to her?”

Valissia nodded, eerily calm as around her the courtyard exploded into chaos, “Yes.”

Amelia, covered in dirt from the garden, skidded to a stop beside Valissia. Her serpentstone gaze widened as she looked at Valissia, “What are you doing?”

“I will not let her die. That’s what I’m doing”, Valissia spoke, keeping her glowing gaze locked on the bridge.

Christopher stood by, his eyes wide and his face stricken. Talise was on the verge of falling to her death, and she had been saved, but in the process, Valissia had summoned a spirit. The spirit mage would not let the spirit go until her friend was saved, and the idea of losing Valissia to a spirit or demon struck at Christopher.

“By the Maker”, Cullen’s amber gaze was wide as he stared at Valissia, one hand going to his sword instinctively, only to stop when Cassandra wrapped an arm around his wrist. The Seeker wore a knowing look, not of acceptance, but of understanding, and at her nod he relaxed his grip.

The glowing shield around Talise shimmered, strengthening, even as the top started to open, a small space that Cole could slide his hand into. He reached for the dark-haired woman, who reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, as Iron Bull grabbed onto Cole’s back and leg.

“Don’t let her go Cole”, unsure of who was casting the shield, and expecting it to give way any moment, Bull pushed Cole over the edge of the bridge, allowing for the half-spirit to grab onto Talise more firmly.

The gate, forgotten as Valissia allowed herself to be possessed, let out a screech as it was lifted further, and Cullen shook himself back into awareness, turning back towards the gate and running across it, followed by Cassandra and Varric. Iron Bull grunted as he pulled Cole up through the hole in the shield, who was clutching onto Talise’s arm with both of his.

Cullen’s heart thundered and pounded against his chest as he saw Talise, dazedly looking up at him. He reached for her, and she lifted her free hand, stretching her arm out as far as she could. With a final tug, Bull and Cassandra pulled Cole, who lost his grip just as Talise grabbed Cullen, her fingers holding onto his wrist. With his free hand, Bull grabbed the back of Cullen’s breastplate, and tugged backwards, grunting from exertion. Just as Alistair reached them, Cullen pulled Talise up onto the walkway of the bridge, collapsing backwards with her in his arms. The shield flickered, brightening and solidifying, before fading away.

Bull wiped ineffectually at a streak of blood on his scarred face, and then lifted a massive hand, dropping it on Cole’s shoulder and squeezing it, “You did good.”

Varric nodded, patting Cole’s shoulder, “Nice move Kid.”

“She would have died”, Cole said, rubbing at his sore arm.

“Come on” Cassandra held out a hand out to Cole, “You need to see the healers.”

“Morning Glory, you alright?” Varric already had an arm slung around Cole’s shoulders, but his gaze was drawn to Talise. She sat on her knees in front of Cullen, blood smearing her features from the fight, one arm pressed to her side, the other arm hanging uselessly at her side, the joint sore and stretched from where Cole had pulled her up by it.

She nodded, panting and out of breath, blood seeping from around the wound on her side, a well-aimed dagger had slid beneath the breastplate she wore, “Nothing that can’t be healed.”

“Maker’s breath, you’re bleeding” Cullen winced as he rose to his feet, his hands trembling, “You could have died Talise. If Cole hadn’t appeared, you would have. What were you thinking?”

“I… needed to stop the apprentice. Venatori agent, he has information on our plans.” Talise fumbled with her words as she sat there,

“Let’s get her to the infirmary. Then she can explain herself”, Alistair spoke, his warm brown eyes dark with shock and anger. He had just watched Talise fall to what he believed to be her death, only to be saved by a mage, a mage possessed by a spirit.

In the courtyard, Amelia shook Valissia’s hand, and reached up to pat at the spirit mage’s face, “It’s ok… let it go Valissia, let it go back.”

Valissia turned her eerie eyes to the storm mage, peering at her for a moment, “Keep…. Faith.”

“We will. Thank you. Go back now. Let go of Valissia”, Amelia shook Valissia’s shoulder this time, harder, fighting a rise of panic. Valissia had summoned a spirit, let herself be possessed by it, in a matter of moments, while standing in the courtyard, surrounded by soldiers, templars, and every other onlooker. Few knew the spirit mage could even summon a spirit in the Rivaini way, and Amelia knew that Valissia’s life hung in the balance, as much as Talise’s just had.

Christopher took a step towards the two mages, one large, calloused hand on his huge sword, the other reaching out for Valissia. They had been pulled in opposite directions after the uproar of the Val Royeaux trip, Valissia had been obviously avoiding him, and while he wanted desperately to apologize, she had avoided him. Now she was possessed, had willingly let it possess her. It went against everything he had been taught, brought up a fear of magic that ran deep in him, but… it was Valissia. The woman who loved roses and fresh rolls of parchment, who blushed if you stared at her, who healed anyone who came to her, who had a moment for every troubled soul that crossed her path. His hand closed around Valissia’s shoulder, gripping it tight enough to shake her gently, “Valissia…”

The spirit mage’s eyes closed, and in an instant, the supernatural glow was gone. Her pale, freckle dotted skin was just it’s normal pink tinged creamy color, her eyes, when she looked up at him, were the same dark, stormy gray, “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any choice.”

Christopher Trevelyan had believed for years that summoning a spirit from beyond the Veil was akin to blood magic, and only the worst mages would do it. He had believed the Chantry’s teachings, on magic and the mages born to wield it. In a moment, he was struck by the knowledge that everything he had been taught was wrong. Twice now, he had watched a mage deliberately summon a spirit, willing to break the rules of the Chantry, to save someone else’s life. A crisis of faith suddenly bloomed within him as he stared at Valissia, “I know.”

Valissia’s knees buckled, exhaustion suddenly swamping her, Amelia grabbed for her, at the same time Christopher did, gathering the spirit mage to him, and then lifting her into his powerful arms, “I’ve got you.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What were you thinking??!!!” Cullen’s voice rose to a shout as he watched Talise, stripped of her bloody armor, and wearing just a linen shirt, holding the hem up as a healer cleaned the stab wound on her side.

“That the apprentice could not escape or get to the agents waiting for him. He had information about our plans, troop movements. There was too much to lose”, Talise explained, wincing when the mage probed at the wound, “Maker… that hurts!”

“You took on a squad of Venatori assassins by yourself. Again. You nearly died getting pulled off the bridge.” Cullen’s gaze was dark with anger as he watched the mage assess Talise’s injuries, “Why didn’t you wait for reinforcements?”

“I had Bull with me”, Talise lifted her uninjured soldier, suddenly unable to meet the anger in Cullen’s honeyed gaze.

“You ordered the gates lowered and cut yourself off from any help besides Bull. While you were standing on the bridge.” Cullen gritted the words out, curling his shaking hands into fists.

“I wasn’t going to let that apprentice go.”

“He wasn’t worth your life Talise!”

“He was the one who poisoned you!!!!!” Talise’s yell echoed in the room, startling the healer. Behind the Commander stood Alistair, the king stepped around Cullen and came to stand in front of Talise, his well-muscled arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I think I speak for all of us Talise, when I tell you that the apprentice was not worth risking your life”, Alistair murmured, reaching out to brush her matted and limp hair out of her gaze, “Too much depends on your life now, for you to be risking it in a stunt like this.”

“It wasn’t a stunt!!”

“You’re a Bann now Talise!”

“I know!!!”

“THEN ACT LIKE IT!!!” Alistair fairly roared the words at her, grabbing her by her good shoulder, “I didn’t make you Bann for you to throw away your life chasing Venatori. You’re smarter than this, you could have easily outwitted them.”

Talise said nothing, knowing that the king was right; in times past Talise would have reacted more calmly, would have used subterfuge and training rather than brute force. She sighed heavily, her head drooping, one hand rubbing at her eyes tiredly.

“Talise, you have let your emotions rule you. You came here to atone for something you did not do. And now, you have taken the attack on Cullen personally”.

“It is personal Alistair”. Talise replied, lifting her chin enough to look up at the much taller man.

“I know”, Alistair sighed, stepping back from Talise, “Just… think about what you’re doing.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the hallway, Christopher sat in a chair, Valissia cradled to his chest. Maggie stood in front of them, murmuring a spell and watching Valissia intently. He had carried the spirit mage in to the infirmary himself, refusing to let her out of his sight.

“Mija… you must be more careful. You cannot summon a spirit with no one to break the hold”, Maggie sighed, leaning forward to run a wrinkled hand over Valissia’s face, “But you did it with pure intentions. And it likely saved Talise’s life.”

“Which is why you’re not yelling at me”, Valissia sighed the words out, her eyes closed, too exhausted now to do much beyond lean her head on Christopher’s broad shoulder.

“Si. I am proud of you. I do not say it often enough to any of you. But you have grown in power and wisdom far beyond what I expected”, Maggie smiled, tucking a strand of bright auburn hair behind Valissia’s cheek, “Keep her here Herald. Let her rest and recover, summoning is very draining. In a few hours she will be hungry, see to it she is fed, and let her rest.”

Christopher nodded, his arm tightening around Valissia’s slim back, “I will.”

“You have seen enough lately to have your faith tested, I am sure. If you want to talk to me about the seers of Rivain, I will tell you everything I know. Valissia is not Rivaini, but she was taught in the old ways, as was Amelia”, Maggie picked up her staff, wincing when Alistair’s roar echoed across the hallway, “And now, I will see to my niece.”

When the door closed behind Maggie, Christopher shifted in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, “I’m sorry Valissia. I’m sorry I didn’t see what the Orlesian ambassador was doing, I’m sorry I let Josephine arrange that public questioning for Talise. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you in Val Royeaux.”

Valissia fought back a yawn, and lifted one hand to cup Christopher’s cheek, “I know. I’m sorry I turned my back on you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“I haven’t made it exactly easy to tell me the truth, have I?” The Herald closed his deep, forest colored eyes, sighing and tipping his head back against the chair, “Rest Valissia. And then we’ll talk.”

The Herald knew there would be questions to answer, and soon. Everyone in the courtyard had seen Valissia, there would be no hiding her abilities, no hiding what she had done. One heavy arm curled tighter around her frame, until she murmured a protest, and he forced himself to relax, drawing in a deep, calming breath. Christopher knew nothing of magic, beyond what he had seen mages do, the idea of Valissia summoning a spirit, letting her possess her, sent chills down his spine.

He shifted, lifting his other hand to sift through Valissia’s tangled, heavy mass of auburn tresses. Having spent so much time with her, all his free time had been spent wooing the spirit mage, he was unable to bear the thought of her leaving Skyhold, or worse. Threading his fingers through her hair, he held her head to his shoulder, letting her lean against him as she dozed, refusing to let her go.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maggie stood in the doorway to the room Talise was in, listening as both Alistair and Cullen berated her niece, often shouting over each other. The lectured her about her lack of tactics, her unwillingness to accept help, her stubbornness, the incredible risks she took. Slowly, Talise melted, collapsing in on herself, and when her head drooped, her eyes closing against their words, Maggie moved.

“I think that is quite enough. She needs to be healed still.” Maggie gently reached for the edge of Talise’s shirt, inspecting the stab wound, “At least you were wearing armor this time.”

“Yes but—“ Alistair started, fairly vibrating with anger.

“Your Majesty, if you can not calm your tongue, I will have you removed from this infirmary. I do not care what crown sits upon your head, you will not interfere with the care of the patients”, Maggie looked up from Talise, turning her head enough that her anger blazed in her dark gaze.

Alistair shut his mouth, sighing and nodding, one large hand riding to pinch the bridge of his nose. Cullen winced when he saw the blood seeping from the wound on Talise’s side, and suddenly wished he could take his words, spoken in anger and fear, back.

“I am aware that Talise gave you both a scare. But you disrespect her by treating her as such. The work Talise does is dangerous. It has _always_ been dangerous. It was this way before either of you knew her.” Maggie continued to talk, setting a roll of bandages and several small potions on the bed beside her.

“She could have died Magdalena”, despite his concern over Talise’s wound, Cullen frowned in response, folding his arms over his chest.

“Si, she could have. That is a risk we all take, every day. None of us are given the promise of another day Commander”, Maggie looked up at Cullen as she shook a bottle, mixing the potion, “Stop treating Talise as if she is a doll that can be broken. Both of you.”

“She is nobility now.”

“I was there when you raised my niece to Bann, whatever your reasons for doing so”, Maggie pinned Alistair with a hard stare, “You are royalty, and yet you still train as a warrior. I do believe you were king when you took off on some trip with Varric and that pirate Isabela.”

The king had no answer to Maggie’s tart response, neither did Cullen, who was rubbing at the back of his neck with one gloved hand. Talise had stayed silent while her aunt spoke, kept her brilliant gaze locked firmly on the floor, one hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Mija, your shoulder is sore no?” Maggie moved Talise’s hand away from her shoulder, moving the neckline of the tunic shirt Talise wore to look at the joint carefully. Talise nodded, lifting her gaze to peek at Maggie.

“Gentlemen, out”, Maggie turned, lifting one wrinkled hand to point towards the doors of the infirmary, “I need to speak with my niece. And heal her.”

Cullen stared at Talise as her aunt spoke, ignoring the seers words for a moment; the tumult of emotions he felt showing in his honeyed gaze. Only when Alistair moved to step past him, with all the dignity of a king who had just been unceremoniously told to leave, did Cullen move, “Talise… I’m sorry for what I said. I was… I was scared.”

Talise peeked at Cullen from behind her heavy curtain of chocolate dark hair, the strands tangled from the fight and then her fall and rescue, “I’m sorry.”

“No. You will talk to her later. When you both have had time to calm down and think.” Maggie shook her head as Talise spoke, and moved towards the door of the room, holding it open. When both men had stepped through it, Cullen moving much slower than Alistair, and looking over his shoulder if he dared, before he slipped from the infirmary. Once outside, Alistair was immediately swept up in his duties as king, but Cullen lingered, standing on the top step of the infirmary.

“Now… Mija. We must talk”

“You’re not going to yell, are you?”

“I should. But you’ve endured enough of that”, Maggie sighed, holding the potion she had been shaking to Talise, “Drink this. Mi reina, you must listen to me. You lost your head this morning. That is why you ended up falling off that bridge, that is why you nearly died. All this time you have always kept your emotions carefully hidden, and now they are in the open.”

Talise did as Maggie instructed, tipping the potion back and draining the bottle, wincing at the taste, “That is awful… Maggie, I don’t know how to do this. How to love him and do this at the same time. How can I love him and be Ghost?”

“You can stop rushing after every enemy of the Inquisition without help, for starters”, Maggie placed a hand on Talise’s wounded side, muttering a few words. A soft green glow emanated from the seer’s hand, healing Talise’s wound with a skill that spoke of her long years of experience.

“Ow ow ow ow. That always stings”, the muscles in Talise’s legs jerked at the odd sensation of her flesh coming back together, but she held still, wiggling one booted foot and grimacing.

“Take better care of yourself and I won’t have to do this”, Maggie shot back, pulling her hand away and looking at the wound. It was a slight red, and tender looking, but it had healed well, “I left the scar. Valissia heals so well you don’t have any scars, and that is part of the problem. Scars are there to teach us lessons. Remember this morning, every time you see that scar.”

“I’ve learned”, Talise protested, sighing as she traced her fingers over the knife wound, now just a scant inch or two of healed scar, “I just lost my head.”

“Cullen is an experienced soldier, with templar training. To act as you did this morning is as disrespectful to him as he was to you just now, yelling at you”, Maggie met Talise’s gaze with her own, before going to the assassin’s injured shoulder.

“But…”

“But nothing Mija. You have been running around, making decisions, without thinking anything through. The Beard’s taught you better than this.” As she spoke, Maggie carefully rotated Talise’s shoulder, “I do not think the joint has been separated, just strained. I will heal this one for you too.”

“So, you’re saying I just have to stand back and let people try to kill him?”

“Talise Elizabeth Montgomery, that is not what I meant, and you know it”, Maggie’s tone was firm, the same tone she had used on Talise when the assassin was a child, “You are one of the smartest people I know. Use your brain before your use your daggers Mija.”

“I hate it when you’re right”, Talise grumbled, wincing as Maggie set to work on her shoulder.

“Then stop being wrong mi reina.” Wearing a smug grin, Maggie stepped back from the bed Talise was sitting on, “No training, no missions, no nothing for at least two days. One of the healers will need to check that scar and your shoulder every day.”

“I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Take my advice. Your commander is probably still on the infirmary steps, waiting for you. Take him to his private baths, clean each other up, and then apologize. Without words. Come together in the best way possible”, the Rivaini seer carefully packed up the potions she had brought in.

Talise’s face heated in a blooming flush that made its way to her hairline and the tops of her ears, “You just told me…”

“I told you no training and no missions. I said nothing about sex. Unless you have been experimenting with the things the Iron Bull likes, and if so, leave the acrobatics out for a few days. But a soak in the baths and some time together will not harm your wounds”, Maggie’s laughter followed her out of the room as she walked down the hallway, leaving Talise to gather her armor and slip silently out through the doors.

Just as Maggie had predicted, Cullen was there, pacing a row into the grass near the entrance to the infirmary, his features drawn with worry. When Talise slipped through the doors, holding the armor they had pulled from her to heal her, Cullen almost knocked over a soldier to get to her.

“Can you… yell at me later?” Talise heaved a sigh, bracing for another round of lectures from the former templar. She had been incredibly reckless, more than she had been in years, letting her emotions and her thirst for revenge get the better of her, “You were right earlier, it was foolish of me to go after them like I did. I risked myself and Iron Bull. But I just don’t want any more yelling.”

Cullen’s heart ached at the sight standing before him, Talise was still smeared and splattered with the blood of the Venatori she had killed, her shirt was dark with her own. Instead of the confident, almost arrogant assassin she had been this morning during a meeting, she looked small and vulnerable. As he reached her, he took one of her vambraces, carefully, aware that she had a dagger on a specialized trigger in one of them, “No yelling. I owe you an apology.”

“For?”

“Talise, if the roles had been reversed, I would have been the same way. I told you that you acted recklessly, but I would have done the same. I know how talented you are, how skilled you are. I know you were scared”, Cullen was startled when Talise moved, dropping her armor in a heap at her feet and launching herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. He caught her within his arms, one hand rising to cup the back of her head, “Maker’s breath… you cannot scare me like that again. I thought I’d lost you.”

The full tumult of her emotions slammed into Talise, with no care for her armor and weapons, she stood in the circle of Cullen’s arms, sniffling into the fur mantle that topped his surcoat, “I was terrified. I got that letter in Jader, telling me you’d been poisoned, and… and even though it said you were fine, I felt like the world had shifted out from underneath me.”

“I felt the same, when you slipped off that bridge”, Cullen murmured the words into Talise’s dark hair, dropping the vambrace he held and curling his arm around her back.

“I need you… I can’t…” the words rose, and Talise sniffled again, pressing her tear-stained cheek against his surcoat once more.

“I know…” Cullen tightened his arms around Talise, cradling her to him. She was one of the fiercest women he knew, but she was also, in many ways, the most fragile.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia walked through the Herald’s Rest, heading up the stairs. She knew from the Chargers that Stitches was working on Bull, the Qunari had just a few injuries from the scuffle on the bridge, but the group’s healer had insisted on taking care of them. Dorian was up there too, she could hear him berating Bull through the door to the room at the top of the tavern, the one Bull had claimed for himself. She was unsure how long she stood in the doorway to Bull’s room, watching Stitches methodically clean each of Bull’s wounds, while Dorian paced the room in a whirl of scented silk and leather. As the Tevinter finally ran out of steam, Stitches pushed himself off the bed beside Bull, patting his captain’s shoulder, “Nothing a good night’s rest won’t take care of. Drink a potion and get some sleep, you’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Yes well… it could have been much… Amelia, what are you doing here?” Dorian stopped in mid-rant to stare at Amelia. The storm mage was twisting the shirt she wore in her fingers, chewing on her lip uncertainly.

“Come on in Amelia.” Iron Bull gestured to the chairs in the room, as well as the wide bed, “You can listen to Dorian tell me all the ways this morning went to shit.”

“Amelia…” Dorian took one look at Amelia’s pale face, and wide eyes, red from tears, and moved to the door, drawing her to his side and walking her to the bed, “Ignore Bull. Is something wrong?”

“Can you…” Amelia paused, scrubbing at her face with the back of her sleeve, “You told me I use my mana too quickly. Can you teach me how to conserve it?”

“You came all the way up here to ask me that?”

Before Amelia could answer, Bull moved, shifting his weight on the bed to look at Amelia, “Aren’t you supposed to be telling Talise something right now anyways?”

“She’s with Cullen… and I don’t want to interrupt.” Amelia lifted one small shoulder in a shrug, “I thought rather than mope around my room I would come ask the best mage in all of Tevinter for some help.”

At Amelia’s attempt to cover her emotions, Bull and Dorian exchanged a long look, and Dorian steered her to the bed, carefully placing her between Bull’s bulk and himself, “Thank you for the compliment my dear. But something has been bothering you lately. Is it what you are supposed to be telling Talise?”

Amelia nodded, shutting her gaze as silvery tears filled her eyes. When a tear slipped beneath her lashes, and started a path down her cheek, Bull tugged a scrap of silk from one of Dorian’s pockets, and patted at her cheek with it, “Why don’t we sit here, and you can tell us first.”

Slowly, the story started to spill out. She had nursed a crush on Talise’s older brother for years, and shortly after the girls returned from Rivain, Jordan had admitted his feelings for her. As an apostate mage, any relationship with Amelia could be dangerous for Jordan. Amelia had wanted to travel, to see the world as well. The pair had decided that they would build their relationship, and when the time was right, settle down in Nightreach, together. Amelia was on her way to the keep, Jordan had been released from Alistair’s service, once done at the Conclave he was free to retire to the keep when everything changed. Jordan was gone, leaving Amelia adrift, and with her refusal to tell either Talise or Valissia what had happened, she had been alone in her grief.

When Amelia was done speaking, her story pulled out of her by Dorian’s gentle questioning, she was sitting in Bull’s lap, the mercenary captain rocking her back and forth while she sobbed against his shoulder. Dorian’s gaze was wet with sympathy as he brushed stray curls from her face, tucking them behind her ear, “Oh why didn’t you say something? All this time you’ve been carrying this.”

“I didn’t…” Amelia hiccupped on a breath, and she paused for a moment, “Ruin anything for Talise. If anyone knew that Jordan had loved an apostate, it could have made it worse for her. And everyone at Nightreach.”

“Blast these damn laws against mages!” Dorian burst out, biting his tongue control his ranting.

“I would have kept your secret Amelia”, Bull spoke, rubbing her back in soothing circles, “You needed to talk to someone about this.”

“It hurt too much”, Amelia sobbed, burrowing her face against Bull’s shoulder.

“Alright… alright… breathe. Nice and slow”, Bull murmured, continuing to rub her back.

“I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been carrying”, Dorian spoke, moving to a wash stand and dipping his handkerchief in the cool water, “But whatever you need, we’ll... I mean I, will get it for you. Well, I’m certain Bull will help as well.”

“I can’t sleep… I keep having these dreams. They’re not my dreams, but I’m in them.”

“And you’ve been sleeping alone lately.” One of Bull’s massive hands continued its slow circuit around her small back.

Amelia nodded, resting her cheek against Bull’s shoulder, too exhausted to say much.

“Well, we can solve that problem. You need to stay with someone. You can stay in my quarters, or with Bull, or with anyone, really.” Dorian spoke briskly, even as he gently rubbed the damp silk against Amelia’s face.

“Bed’s more than big enough for you Amelia”. Iron Bull nodded in agreement. “And Dorian is right. You’ve been dealing with this alone, you need to be around people.”

“Can I stay here?” Her voice was tiny, soft enough that even Bull had to strain to hear it.

“Of course, you can.”

“I’m sorry, I’m probably interrupting things and”, Amelia’s eyes welled with tears as she looked from Dorian to Bull and then back again.

“Nonsense. I just came up here to tell Bull what an idiot he has been. I will go get you some clothes, and you can sleep here.” Dorian pushed himself off the bed, carefully avoiding Bull’s glance.

By the time Dorian returned, Amelia was dozing in Bull’s arms, exhausted by the tumult of emotions running through her. The Tevinter and Qunari worked to tug off her boots and leggings, and then pull a fresh shirt for her to sleep in on over her head. Dorian was running a comb through her golden curls, working them into a braid to keep them from tangling, when he spoke to Bull, “This explains Michel then.”

“And Rylen.”

“What do you mean Rylen?”

“Something is going on between him and Amelia.”

“There… that will make it easier for her to sleep”, Dorian worked a scrap of ribbon around the end of Amelia’s braid, “She was using Michel to forget about Jordan. Poor thing…”

Bull shifted Amelia back down to his bed, she barely looked up as laid her on a pillow, and then gently tugged the covers up over her form, “We need to keep both away from her. Let her work things out first.”

“That will be difficult.”

“No, it won’t. Michel knows she is upset with him over Talise’s questioning. I’ll make sure he knows to leave her be for a while.”

“You won’t break her confidence, will you? She didn’t swear us to secrecy, but she won’t want this getting out.”

“Nah, I’ll figure something out.”

“Bull… I’m sorry our…” Dorian paused, his cheeks flushing a rather dark shade of pink, “Well, I wouldn’t call it a date.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bull grinned wickedly at Dorian for a moment, “But she needed someone to lean on.”

“Two someones it seems.” Dorian blushed harder at Bull’s grin, busying himself with straightening up the clothes he had brought for Amelia, refolding them. After a few moments of discussion, Bull and Dorian decided to take shifts with Amelia. Bull spent the day with the Chargers, training as normal, while Dorian moved a stack of books into Bull’s room and read.

When Bull returned to his room to take over for Dorian, he found Amelia still asleep, and the Tevinter mage surrounded by books, all of them open to various pages, as Dorian wrote down meticulous notes, “Is everything ok?”

“Bull!! The most marvelous thing has happened!” Dorian leaped to his feet, snatching up a book from nearby, and half-whispering, half-shouting in his excitement.

“You’re going to tell me about it, right?”

“Of course, here, sit down”, Dorian handed the book to Bull, who scanned it and then handed it back.

“Dorian, I’m not into magical things.”

“It’s about somniari.”

Iron Bull paused then, looking at Dorian intently, he knew the Tevene word for a dreamer, “You mean the mages that can get into the Fade without magic or lyrium?”

“Yes!!” Dorian nodded, gesturing to the piles of books, “I have been trying to understand what Amelia was talking about, her dreams. She isn’t in her own dreams, she is in other places in the Fade. She is dreamwalking without understanding it.”

“You’re telling me she’s a dreamer?” Bull blinked, leaning back in his chair, slightly wide-eyed as he looked first to Dorian and then Amelia, “Valissia can summon spirits at will, and allows herself to be possessed by them. And Amelia is a dreamer…”

“Isn’t it exciting!!!” Dorian nodded at Bull’s answer, almost bouncing up and down in place, “Two very rare abilities, manifested in two mages that grew up together. I wonder if the Veil is particularly thin at Nightreach, or something, that triggered this. Talise is exceptionally talented as well. Maybe it was their home that did this.”

“Or maybe it’s just because they’re both mages. This magic shit is crazy.” Bull suppressed a shiver, “Sorry Dorian.”

“I…” Dorian took a deep breath, and looked over his shoulder at Amelia, “I know that magic can be scary. But we’re not all blood mages out to hurt people.”

“I know that”, Bull slouched in his chair, stretching his legs out, “Tell me about these dreamers then. Amelia is going to need us. Both of us.”

“Well, when she wakes up, we need to take her to Solas.” Dorian said, as he sat on the arm of the chair Bull had settled into, handing the Qunari another book to read.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talise and Cullen work things out, in the best way they can. And Cullen finally learns the source of Talise's self-doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I'm sorry I left this story hanging, I had some major life upheaval going on over the summer, and in the middle of it the muses abandoned me.   
> I was on my 4th or 5th play-through of Origins when I realized I simply do not like Arl Eamon. I channeled that into my story. Also, there will be a companion chapter to Ghost of Ferelden, written from Talise's perspective, about her infatuation with a certain king.

 

 

Cullen stood in the wide pool of his personal bathing quarters. When his joints ached, when his hands shook from the lack of lyrium, he would come down here and sit in the water, letting it relax him. This evening though, his focus was on Talise, sitting on the edge of the pool across from him. She had insisted on rinsing off, before getting into the pool, and he had poured a bucket of water over her frame, watching the blood slide from her dark hair, and off her porcelain skin.

Now she sat on the edge of the pool, wrapped in a thick towel, her hair wet, and hanging limply down her back. He reached for a healing potion, tucked in a basket next to several pots of soap, and held it out to her silently, watching her with concern in his amber gaze. As she drank the potion, he picked up the pot of salve Valissia had made for him, designed for his sore and aching joints. His calloused fingers rubbed the ointment, the smell of elfroot and dawn lotus filling the air, into Talise’s shoulder, and across the bruises forming on her arms. With a gentleness that seemed at odd with his large frame, he tugged the knot on her towel, until it pooled around her naked hips, and rubbed more of the salve into the new scar on her side.

Once that was done, he grabbed a pitcher of water, filled it, and tugged Talise into the pool. As short as she was, it was easy for him to tip the pitcher over her head, and rewet her hair, which looked almost black. Slowly, and with the same gentle touch, he started to work soap into her hair, cleaning the blood and sweat from the heavy mass of dark hair. When her hair was frothy with bubbles, he tangled his fingers in her hair, and tipped her chin up, looking down into her heavily lashed gaze, “Are you alright?”

Talise had been struck by a startling sense of clarity since leaving the infirmary. She had nearly died, had nearly fallen to her death off the bridge. After all she had been through, all the close calls, a simple mistake had nearly killed her. When Cullen questioned her, she nodded, remembering her aunt’s words, and she rose on tiptoe, pressing her full lips to his, “I’m fine.”

Still standing in the pool, uncaring that he was naked, his armor and coat piled on a chair, Cullen tugged Talise to him, his fingers continuing to work the soap through her hair, “Maggie did a good job of healing you.”

“She did.” Talise could feel the tremor that ran through Cullen’s frame, and she wrapped her wet arms around his waist, “I’m sorry.”

“As am I. It is more difficult to watch you fight than it is to leave. At least when you leave I don’t see you throw yourself into the fight.” Cullen held her chin up with one hand and used the pitcher to rinse the soap out of her hair with the other.

“Do you know what I thought about when I fell?”

“No.”

“That I wasn’t going to dream about you anymore. I was in that shield, and I had no idea what was going on. And I thought I wasn’t going to see you in my dreams.” Talise slid her hands up Cullen’s muscled back as she spoke, and then back down, tracing each muscle with slim fingertips.

“What do you see in your dreams?”

“A lion. When I was little, it was a cub, it used to chase me around and make me laugh. But it’s been an adult lion for years now. With this golden mane that turns red and black underneath. And a scar”, smiling, she reached for his face, running her finger down the scar that split his upper lip.

Out of reflex Cullen caught her hand, and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm, “I saw you fall over the edge and my heart stopped.”

“I won’t do it again, if it makes you feel better”.

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Cullen chuckled, nodding in agreement, “I would prefer you kept both feet on the bridge from now on.”

The candles burnt lower as Cullen combed out Talise’s hair, using the thick cream he knew she used when her hair was wet. With gentle strokes he untangled her tresses and washed her skin clean. Once she was clean, Talise urged Cullen to sit down and slid into his lap, starting the same process with him. His hands trailed over her back and hips as she worked his blonde hair into a lather, her fingertips rubbing against his scalp in a gentle massage.

Cullen let out a groan as Talise worked on his hair, and let his head fall forward to rest against her shoulder. She trailed her fingers down his shoulders and back, rubbing the soap into his skin with slow, steady strokes. When the soap was gone, when she could not reach any further, she picked up the pitcher, and slowly rinsed his back and shoulders off, and then his hair, her fingers sinking into his thick curls once more.

“Maggie told me I needed to apologize without words”, the corners of Talise’s mouth started to curl in a suggestive grin as she continued to rinse Cullen’s hair clean.

He blinked up at her, almost too relaxed to catch what she was insinuating, and then his honeyed gaze widened, “Maker’s breath… that woman. And you’ve been hurt.”

“I’m fine Cullen. No soreness.” Giggling, Talise set the pitcher down, and slid his fingers into his hair, tipping his head back so she could press a kiss to his forehead.

In a moment, Cullen was suddenly, acutely aware that Talise was naked in his arms. Her smooth skin smelled like the soap he used, instead of the flower-scented one she normally wore, and the idea of his smell on her inflamed him. Despite his trepidation, his large hands slid over back, pressing her slick skin more firmly against his. He filled his hands with her breasts, cupping them as he leaned up, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, “I think it’s time we went to bed, don’t you?”

Through hazy blue eyes Talise looked at him, squirming in his lap as his fingers slid easily over her nipples, the tender flesh puckering in response to his touch. She nodded, sliding off his lap, and stepping out of the bathing pool. It took a few moments for them to redress, although neither pulled their armor back on, Cullen took a moment to whisper a few words to a passing servant, who grinned and nodding in response. The walk back to their now shared quarters above the main gate was a fast one, the keep was remarkably quiet, for once.

Once they were alone, on the new bed Cullen had installed, he set about tugging off the clothes Talise had hastily pulled on. Her boots and socks were discarded, the simple leggings she wore dropped in a pile, her tunic was tossed towards a trunk, and her silken underthings were pulled off. When Talise was naked, watching him through wide sky-touched eyes, he leaned her back on the bed, stopping long enough to tug his boots and shirt off, leaving him in just a pair of leather breeches. His lips took a leisurely journey down her neck, leaving small marks and stubble burn on her neck, for each kiss he pressed into her smooth skin he was rewarded with a shiver or a sigh. When his lips curled around one tightly budded pink nipple, Talise arched from the bed, her back bowing as she let out a whimper. Soon his fingers were plucking and tugging on the other one, until both were swollen from his attention. When Talise let out a particularly high whine of need, Cullen lifted his head from her nipples, and started to suck and lick over the curves of her breasts, until she was squirming atop the bed, pressing her thighs together to satiate the need pulsing through her.

Gritting his teeth, he continued his efforts, pressing kisses down her belly, and there he stopped, the new scar she sported drawing his attention. Magic had already faded it to a thin line, and he traced one broad finger over the scar gently. Just a few hours before, she had nearly been taken from him, if she had been fighting in her customary style, wearing as little armor as she could get away with, this scar would be far worse. A shudder ran through him, and he closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

When gentle fingers slid into his hair, further mussing the golden curls, he lifted his head and found Talise staring at him with the same emotion shimmering in her cerulean gaze. Gently he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to the new scar, as Talise often did to his. Talise continued to run her fingers gently through his hair at his movements, her hips jerked when he nipped at the protrusions of her hip bones, and then a shiver ran through her as he slid a hand up her thigh, gently pushing her legs open.

With utmost care he settled between her legs, one large hand reaching for her delicate folds, and parting them with an almost reverence. Cullen had taken Talise, he had made love to her, but he touched her now with a reverence that bordered on religious. She sucked in a breath, squirming on the bed as he lightly, with just the barest pressure, parted her folds, skimming across the slickness already forming. His amber eyes flicked up towards hers, dark with arousal as he continued to stroke and pet her, slowly running his fingers up and down her folds, until Talise was arching from the bed, and parting her legs further in invitation.

She hissed out a curse when he slipped one broad finger inside of her, her muscles tightening in welcome around him. Cullen’s shoulders shook from the effort to be gentle with her, a shiver ran down his frame as he watched her thighs twitch, her belly curve outward as she arched from the bed each time he moved his finger inside of her. With excruciating care, he eased another finger inside of her, and Talise let out a whimper, her body jerking under his touch. Cullen smiled up at her, slowly withdrawing his fingers and sliding them inside just as slowly. The candles burned lower as Cullen continued his slow assault on Talise’s body, leaning forward to suck at her swollen nipples, leaving small marks on her collar bone that she would conceal later. Talise lay on the bed, her hips following his movements, her toes curled tightly against the sheets, her captivating gaze obscured as her eyes fell shut. She was so close, the pleasure peaking in her body, and then, just as gently as he started, Cullen withdrew from her.

Her eyes flew open, a plea forming on her lips, only to be silence as Cullen pushed back from the bed and slid his leather breeches off. The muscles of his body bunched and then stretched as he climbed back onto the bed, his honey and whiskey eyes predatory as they took in Talise’s form stretched out beneath him. He was still achingly gentle as he slid between her thighs, sighing when Talise reached for him, unable to keep her fingers from his hair. She had the habit of playing with his hair, curling it around her fingers, mussing it from it’s careful style during the day, and now she curled the thick, golden curls around her fingers.

For a moment, Talise had a flash of the wants she kept so carefully hidden, of young children with those same golden curls. The idea sent a bolt of pleasurable warmth through her, even as she chased it away, rising from the bed to press her mouth against Cullen’s. He lost himself in Talise’s kiss, cradling her head in his calloused palms, curling his tongue around hers, rubbing suggestively, until they were both gasping for air. When he lifted his head, panting for breath, Talise followed him, he felt the bite of her teeth in his shoulder, just enough to have him hissing in response, the slide of her thighs around his waist, her skin so soft and delicate there, sent his heartbeat racing faster, thundering in his ears.

One of Talise’s hands, skilled and talented, curled around Cullen’s hard length, stroking in a rhythm he had taught her, and Cullen murmured a low curse, his hips jerking against her thighs as she stroked him. His arms shook, muscles jumping as he held himself above her, hips rocking as she continued to stroke and rub him. When she leaned up, he caught her lips with in a possessive kiss, calloused hands curling into the long strands of chocolate colored hair stretched out around Talise’s head.

His head swam as she toyed with him, getting him closer to the edge of pleasure, and then backing off, stroking him with tender skill, until he was shivering against her, his arousal leaking in her fingers. Cullen sucked a breath into his lungs, lifting his mouth from hers, “Talise… I… I can’t.. I want.”

“I know Cullen”, Talise leaned up to nip and suck at his neck, her legs shifting around his hips. Pleasuring him had only increased her own want, and now she was almost trembling, arching her hips to press the wet, slick folds against his cock as she continued to stroke him.

He groaned as she rubbed wantonly against him, arching her back off the bed. One muscled arm slid around her back, tugging her hips up off the bed, his hand cupping the taut curves of her ass. Talise was stroking his length, and each time she did, the swollen head of his cock pressed against her, almost slipping within her folds, his hips pressed his length against her, his amber gaze sliding shut as he slid within her. The loss of her fingers around his length sent a shiver through him, but the warmth and wetness of her body made up for it.

Talise murmured a plea as he slid within her, lifting her hips closer to Cullen’s, and meeting his hips with her own, her pale legs lifting to wrap around his waist, tugging him closer. With an aching slowness that sent shivers down Talise’s shoulders, Cullen started to move, easing his cock in and out of her. Her back bowed from the bed to speed him up; but instead Cullen propped himself on one elbow, using his other arm to gather her shivering form to him. When he would not speed up his thrusts, still sliding in and out with that slow rhythm, Talise wound her arms around his muscled shoulders, clinging to his frame and lifting her hips up to meet his.

Cullen groaned, lifting his head enough to catch Talise’s lips with his own, sinking into the kiss with the same gentle masculinity that he took her with, rocking his hips against hers as she returned his kiss, whimpering into his mouth with each movement. The candles on his desk below, and the ones lit nearby burned down to nothing as they continued to move together, rocking gently with each other, the room filled with their quiet sighs and moans.

Talise squirmed on the bed when Cullen slid one hand down her body, rubbing his calloused thumb against her swollen pearl, while the weight of his hand rested low on her stomach, the warmth from his hand spreading across her creamy skin. Matching his thrusts, he kept his touch slow and steady, and when Talise’s climax came, she arched from the bed, moaning into his mouth. With each rhythmic pulse of her body, Cullen groaned, pushing his hips harder against hers, until his own release found him.

In the moments afterwards, Cullen slid his hands down her arms and then back up, over her back, touching as much of her skin as he could, reassuring himself that she was truly in one piece, and within his arms. Talise curled her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, fighting back a sudden rush of tears. At the telltale sniffle, Cullen’s hands slid up to her face, lifting her head from his shoulder, concern etched in his features, “Are you alright??... Maker, I should have waited.”

“No, it’s not that”, with trembling fingers, she wiped away at the tears leaving silvery tracks across her smooth cheeks, “I just… It was a stupid risk and I shouldn’t have done it, and I’m so sorry.”

Cullen had yet to pull away from Talise, and he nodded in understanding, leaning down until his forearms rested on either side of her dark head, gently caging her in with his frame. Talise buried her face in his shoulder once more, while he whispered to her, promising her that she would never have to fight alone again, that he would never leave her, until her shivering stopped, and her tears were dry once more. Only then did he pull away from her, sliding from her body and stretching out on his back, using one well-muscled arm to pull Talise’s slight form atop his chest.

As they lay curled around each other, basking in the warmth of their bed, a small bottle sat forgotten on a nearby dresser. Talise had stuffed the dresser full of clothes, for a woman who preferred leather leggings to dresses, she had more clothes than Cullen had realized. The top of the wooden dresser was where she kept her gloves, the black scarf she wore to obscure her delicate features, and there sat one shining bottle. In her personal rush for justice, for retribution and bloody revenge, Talise had forgotten to take her witherstalk potion.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime in the early morning, when the sky was streaked with soft silver, the sun not quite over the horizon, Cullen rolled over, one muscled arm reaching out for the dark-haired woman that normally slept beside him. The bed was cool to the touch, just a faint hint of the warmth of her body remained, and he found himself staring at the empty side of the bed as sleep left him.

No note, just a single moon flower lay on the pillow. The Ghost of Ferelden had struck mostly during this time of day, knowing that night guards would be tired at the end of their shift, and servants would be just waking up; both groups most likely to spot an assassin would be unlikely to see her. It meant that now, safe inside Skyhold, Talise was restless during the early morning hours. There had been mornings he awoke to find her reading report at his desk, curled up in his chair with a book, or pacing the ramparts, staring off across the mountains. Even now, just a day after she had nearly fallen to her death, sleep had eluded her.

He was dressed, and walking up the ramparts to a tower, before he even had second thoughts. Demon was floating on lazy circles above the gray stone tower, giving away Talise’s location, and as he climbed the rickety staircase, he heard voices floating back down to him.

“I could have died Zevran. I should have died.”

“There are many times you have escaped capture or worse. It is a risk we all take, no?”

“Zevran, I’m being serious here.”

“As am I, my water lily. All of us have had the one escape that changed things. It seems you’ve just had yours.”

“Was yours…” Talise’s voice trailed off as she spoke, Cullen knew enough to know the history between the Hero of Ferelden and Zevran, a sigh of sympathy escaped him at her question.

“You can say her name my water lily. And yes, nearly falling to Lyna’s magic changed everything for me”, in a rare show of honesty, something Zevran was comfortable revealing around Talise, the former Crow nodded, “It took a while. But being with her, watching her fight for what she thought was right, watching her, a Dalish, try to save dwarves and human alike, it changed me.”

“I’m sorry Zevran, for her loss.”

Zevran’s molten gold and green gaze darkened as he looked at Talise, “Thank you Talise. I wish you would have had a chance to meet her. Standing in her presence was… inspiring.”

“Me too… maybe things would be different.”

“Ahhhh... I know that tone. Stop it Talise. You are deserving of love, and happiness.”

There was a long pause, and Cullen almost stepped to the top of the staircase, before finally he heard Talise sigh, “And if I’m not?”

“Too bad, you have love anyways. I didn’t know Cullen well, but I saw what was in that tower Talise. He has come through much, to be the man he is.” Zevran held out a scrap of meat for Demon, who regarded him coolly in return.

“I can’t even begin to imagine.”

“My point, my water lily, is that you have been given a gift. Do not question if you are worthy of it, just accept it. And fight for it. Use every trick you have, to fight for him.” Handing the scrap of meat to Talise, Zevran pushed away from the stone merlon he had been leaning against, “Speaking of… I do believe your lover has come searching for you. This is my cue… unless you want another partner to join you?”

At the elf’s outlandish flirting, Talise burst into laughter, shaking her head at him, “No Zevran, just no.”

Cullen’s face was deep pink when he stepped onto the top of the tower, but his spine was straight from years of practice and training, “I thought I’d find you here. Zevran, I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you, Cullen. The temptation of all those ladies in Alistair’s court proved to be too tempting. Speaking of, I think it is about time I spoke with Alistair”, still smirking, Zevran disappeared down the stairs.

Talise watched Zevran leave, unable to meet Cullen’s warm amber gaze as he watched her. As usual she was dressed in an over-sized tunic shirt, a simple pair of leggings, and her usual boots. Her chocolate dark hair fell down her back and over her shoulders in loose waves, the ends long enough to reach almost her waist now. Still more street urchin than noble, Talise lifted her bright, sky-touched gaze to his at last, her teeth worrying the corner of her lip, “You must have heard.”

Cullen nodded, his booted scuffing against the stone as he stepped towards her. One gloved hand reached out to slide down her arm, curling his fingers around her own, “You still think you are unworthy. Is it because you’re an assassin? Or is it more?”

Talise blinked up at him, her features softening into one of shock, sucking in a deep breath and holding it for a moment, before slowly letting it out, “You’re asking me to tell you something I have told just Maggie.”

“I am”, atop the one of the still abandoned towers in Skyhold, with the mountains surrounding them and the early morning offering them shelter in the shadows still, Cullen nodded, his fingers tightening around Talise’s gently.

“Jordan, after the Battle of Denerim, was promoted to the king’s guard. Alistair was welcoming of any family of his guards, we always had a place there. And to a young girl, recently orphaned, he was this walking… beacon of hope. I had grown up on the fairy tales, the princess is rescued by the prince, and they live happily ever after.” She turned, ostensibly to offer her eagle the scrap of meat she held, but also to keep her gaze from Cullen. Talise could, and often did, keep her features smooth and neutral, but with the former templar, she lost her ability to hide her emotions and thoughts. Feeding Demon became a shield, as she slowly revealed another of her secrets.

Cullen stayed quiet watching Talise slide into her memories as she talked, “He always found time to talk to me, to offer me flowers from the garden, and play chess in the afternoons. He knew I liked to read and started bringing me rare books from the library. People became aware he was showing me more attention than most.”

“I was up one night, wandering towards the library, and I heard Arl Eamon talking with Alistair. He was urging Alistair to marry the daughter of a noble. ’She is not as pretty as the Montgomery girl, true. But she is noble. Jordan serves you well on the guard, and his sister is truly beautiful. But she is a mercenary’s daughter. She’ll always be nothing more than that.’” Talise’s voice wavered as she spoke the words she had heard that long-ago night. Just past fifteen, struggling with the loss of her parents, trying to find her footing in the world, and those simple words from an aging Arl had struck her with the accuracy of throwing daggers.

At her words, Cullen sucked in a breath, gritting his teeth for a moment. Talise had been fractured after the loss of her parents, he knew as much from Maggie, and he knew the Arl’s words would have arrows straight to her still broken heart. Keeping his face neutral, he tugged her frame to him, until her back rested against his chestpiece, “Go on.”

“I knew then, that everything my foolish heart had hoped for, would never come to pass. The landsmeet would have never agreed to me, as… anything. The next day, I asked Maggie to take me to Rivain, Valissia and Amelia went with me. Not quite two years later, my training as an assassin was complete, and I was Ghost”, Talise sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, “Eamon was right though. I will never be more than a mercenary’s daughter, common born.  An assassin.”

“No. That is not true”, he had not taken the time to comb out his blonde curls, and they shifted, falling into his honeyed gaze as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “You are so much more than just a mercenary’s daughter. Shall I tell you?”

A sudden rise of tears obscured her gaze for a moment, and Talise dug her teeth in her lip until the moment passed, but she did not trust herself to speak, knowing her voice would break if she did. Instead she nodded, keeping her shining gaze locked on the mountains.

“I see a loyal friend. A fearless fighter, who throws herself from the tops of buildings onto her targets. I see a woman who speaks Qunlat, Rivaini, some Orlesian, and enough elven to converse with Solas. I know you know more about Fereldan history than most historians, that you’ve read every book on dragons in the library. I see someone who has taken on leading a group of freeholders, running a keep, who has established a network of spies and contacts that rivals Leliana’s. I see you pick flowers to leave on my desk, and take notes for Valissia, and spar with Amelia. You’ve taken your family and elevated them to greatness. Not despite your upbringing, but because of it. The pampered, spoiled nobles I have seen at court could not do half of what you’ve done.” As he spoke, Cullen had shifted, stepping back and curling his arms around Talise’s shoulders, turning her to face him, and then gently cupping her face in his hands, turning her face up until he could look at her.

His gentle words, spoken with sincerity, with love and the tenderness that only she saw from him, undid Talise; in a moment the tears that had been threatening her vision overtook it completely, leaving her sky-touched gaze awash silvery tears, “Cullen… I…”

“I’m not finished. Eamon did not see these things because he thinks as a noble does, all that matters is your name, your family. But you would have made the best Queen Ferelden has ever had. I am selfishly glad that he did not see these things though”, smiling gently at her, he rubbed at the tear tracks on her cheeks with his thumbs, “You would not be here, with me, if they had seen you, for what you truly are. I will always be thankful you’re not someone else’s queen.”

Unable to take the honesty in Cullen’s warm gaze, Talise buried her face in the fur of his surcoat, pressing her face into shoulder, “Stop Cullen.”

“Do you not believe me?”

She said nothing, and kept her face where it was, pressed tightly against his surcoat.

“How long did it take you to become good with your daggers?”

Talise lifts her head from his chest, frowning in confusion, “Months. Months and months of practice.”

“Did someone teach you?”

“Yes.”

“And did they tell you that you would get better?”

“Every day.”

“I will tell you, every day if I need to, what I see when I look at you. Until you believe me, and then even after.” His gloves hand slid through her loose hair gently, sifting through the dark umber strands, one thumb wiping at the tears that slid down her smooth cheeks.

Behind them the sun rose higher, reaching towards the Frostbacks, the keep slowly coming to sleepy life. Still Cullen kept Talise on the tower, letting her burrow her face into his coat, keeping one gloved hand on the small of her back. While he had spoken to her, Demon had lifted off into the air, and now she floated above their heads on the breeze, circling in lazy spirals against a cloud dotted sunshine, glowing shades of vermillion and gold spilling over the two of them.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher and Talise bond over his affection for Valissia. Magdalena finally gets an opportunity to set Alistair straight about Talise. Dorian's personal quest!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the deal, I have a deep, deep love of Alistair. And I seriously toyed with the idea of setting him and Cullen against each other; but I felt like I was playing into a few too many tropes already to add a love triangle into the mix. I satisfied my Alistair sweet tooth with this storyline, although the king of Ferelden isn't quite done with the Inquisition just yet.

 

Christopher hesitated as he walked down the hallway. Deep within the halls of Skyhold, Talise had set up the headquarters for the Wraiths, and worked there virtually unchecked. Despite the results the Wraiths were producing, he was still leery of the methods they employed, but Leliana seemed pleased with both the idea and their work.

In the open doorway to the room, he paused, standing there and peering inside. Talise tracked the movements of her scouts on a large map, he knew she used a system to track her scouts as they worked, and she used the colored straight pins the tailors used, of all things. From one of the tailors she had procured boxes of the things, much to Leliana’s amusement.

“Herald? Is everything alright?” From a wide desk at the front of the room, in front of the map with it’s colored pins stuck to it, Talise worked. She was looking up at him now, a report in her hand, one brow lifted, as she studied him through her bright eyes. Talise had the most eerie eyes Christopher had ever seen, in addition to their unusual color, she seemed to be able to see through a person any time she looked at them, he suppressed a shiver as she looked up at him.

“Everything is fine…” He moved into the room, pointedly ignoring the racks of poisons, organized by type, on one wall.

“You’re clearly uncomfortable here”, Talise moved fluidly to her feet, “Which means you had to have a reason for coming down here.”

“I’m not used to your methods. I’ve never been around an assassin before, let alone Ghost.” Christopher rubbed at the back of his neck, a movement he had picked up from spending so much time with Cullen, “But I wanted to let you know, I will not let anything happen to Valissia. Or Amelia.”

When Valissia had revealed that she could summon a spirit, in the same method Rivaini seers used, it had sent ripples through the Inquisition. Although Christopher had recruited the mages as allies, it was still difficult to see them openly using their magic, and many were still unsure of Christopher’s choices.

“Thank you, Christopher. That means a lot to me”, Talise leaned against her desk, her frame relaxing. Her face softened from its usual neutral expression at the mention of her friends. The bond between the three of them was clearly visible, they spent much of their free time together, sought each other out, and fought almost back to back.

“She cares for you… and I care for.” Christopher trailed off, wincing as he realized he was revealing his emotions to Talise.

“Her?” Talise supplied, a grin lifting her full lips. Knowledge gleamed in her gaze, Valissia had confided in her, and although she would not break her friend’s confidence, Talise had no qualms in pushing the spirit mage and Herald together, “Tell me… does Valissia know of your feelings?”

Christopher felt his cheeks heat in a blush, and he dropped his eyes from Talise’s knowing grin, “We… have not… spoken… of our relationship much.”

“You sound like Cullen”, as she spoke, Talise stepped soundlessly to a nearby desk, and boosted herself up onto it, letting her booted feet swing back and forth.

“Yes well…”

“If you want my advice… tell Valissia how you feel.”

“And what if my feelings aren’t returned?”

“Ahhhh… the great Christopher Trevelyan, felled not by a dragon. But by fear”, Talise snorted, shaking her head at him, “If you want the love, you risk pain. That’s the hard part.”

“I think I’d rather face a dragon.” Christopher muttered, sighing and raking his calloused hands through his hair, “I think about her all the time. I want her with me. I hate it when she leaves, or when I leave, and she stays. I want to sit with her when she reads those books of hers. I want to watch her plant flowers and mix potions.”

“Then tell her that Christopher. You have two choices. Tell her how you feel and risk some pain. Or ignore the feelings and lose her. That choice leads to pain, no matter what. Telling her how you feel might lead to what you want with her.”

“You sound like Magdalena.”

“I’ve spent years with her, she’s rubbed off.” Talise grins impudently.

“I spoke with her about Valissia and magic. She assured me that the templars in Rivain were aware of what the seers did.” He kept his gaze focused on his calloused fingers, rubbing at a spot dark with oil from cleaning his sword and shield.

Talise nodded, tucking her dark hair behind her ears, “They were. The circle at Dairsmuid was annulled to keep it from rebelling. Not because the templars had lost control. The seers have been apart of Rivain for ages. Watching her summon a spirit is… strange. But it is part of her.”

Christopher nodded, massive shoulders relaxing as Talise spoke, “I’ve made her promise she will not do it unless someone can be there to break the summoning.”

“That is a good compromise. I know the magic she practices is strange, but she isn’t dangerous. She’s not Anders.”

The Herald could not keep the wince off his features when Talise mentioned the name of the mage responsible for the rebellion, but he nodded in agreement, “Thank you for saying that. Your understanding of it, as both Bann and Ghost, will do much to ease the minds of many. The soldiers respect you.”

Caught off guard by Christopher’s answer, Talise blinked several times, her eyes widening, “I…”

“It’s remarkably hard for you to take a compliment”, a wide smile lifted Christopher’s features, as he learned something about the secretive assassin.

“Yes well… let’s not talk about the quirks of my personality, shall we?”

“I didn’t come just to talk about Valissia. I have a small situation I need your help with.”

Talise tilted her head as she looked up at Christopher, one dark eyebrow lifting in question, “Oh?”

“Mother Giselle came to see me. It seemed Dorian’s family reached out to her, they want to meet with him.”

“And?”

“Well… they’re Tevinter. And Dorian does not speak highly of them. I thought after everything that has happened with Alexius, that we should be cautious with this.”

Talise nodded in agreement, her feet continuing to swing back and forth as she sat on the table, “I would advise caution as well.”

“That’s what I’m here. You can ferret out information better than nearly anyone. And now that you’re working on your own, you can…”

“Find out what Dorian’s family is up to?” Talise supplied, sliding off the table and walking to her desk. She flipped through several papers, until she found the one she wanted, “Things have been quiet since Alexius was removed. Teagan has sent men to repair any damage done to either the keep or the village, and things are getting back to normal there.”

Christopher nodded, he had seen the same report this morning, “I know Arl Tegan is not happy with us still, but at least his keep has been returned to him.”

“Don’t take Tegan’s moods personally. He was never raised with the expectation of being Arl, and with Eamon’s retirement, he has had to adjust rather quickly.” There was a slight hitch in her voice as Talise spoke of Eamon, the barest hint of emotion there.

“Do you know Eamon personally?” Christopher focused his gaze on the short assassin sitting across from him, staring at her intently.

“I met him just a few times, before he retired. He served on Alistair’s council, and the king took his advice very seriously.” She kept her features neutral, but just a flicker of emotion showed in her gaze as she spoke.

“What’s your opinion of the Guerrins?”

A small shoulder lifted in a shrug, “Professionally? They’re very concerned with appearances, and with maintaining the glory of the Guerrin name. Which is what led to Isolde hiding Connor’s magical abilities.”

“And personally?”

“They are like any other noble family. Convinced of their superiority by the sheer accident of their birth and lineage. Every noble family started the same way, as commoners who were raised to their titles. However, most nobles conveniently forget that.” A trace of bitterness wove its way into Talise’s tone as she spoke, betraying her feelings.

Christopher grinned, having caught the inflection in Talise’s voice. He got a strange sense of satisfaction at seeing Talise lower her mask of neutrality, “Spoken like a commoner.”

She nodded in agreement, reaching up to move the dark braid of hair that had slipped over her shoulder, “I _am_ a commoner. Make no mistake Christopher, Alistair may have given me my brother’s title, but the Montgomery’s are not noble. I’m still the daughter of a mercenary, and I always will be.”

“I was never happy with the social climbing and scheming of the nobles”, Christopher admitted.

“I don’t imagine you would be. If it’s not a target you can rush headlong at, you don’t understand it.” She grinned then, a flash of humor and teasing as she looked up over him at the report she still held.

Christopher grinned, nodding in agreement, “Just give me something I can swing a sword at.”

“I have some free time later on, if you’re offering.”

“Sparring with the Ghost of Ferelden? I would be a fool to pass that up.” His dark green eyes, a near match to the pines and evergreens that grew high in the mountains, widened as he looked at her. Talise, no Ghost, was a legend among assassins, feared amongst those who knew of her, well-loved by the commoners she fought so hard for. No one in Skyhold, even Bull, who could read people like most read a book, had been able to best her in combat.

“The Wraiths will be here for a meeting in a few minutes. I will send one or two to Redcliffe to see what they can find out, and we will come up with a plan in case things take a turn for the worse. I don’t want Dorian hurt.” While she spoke, she slid the report back into the stack she had taken it from, flipping through and reorganizing them.

“Neither do I.”

“And then… we’ll see if you can get the better of me.” Relaxed finally, she grinned up at Christopher, a challenge in her bright eyes.

“A chance to finally bring the Ghost of Ferelden down? Even in training? I cannot pass it up.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the afternoon sun, Christopher and Talise trained and sparred. Word had quickly spread, and they had attracted quite a following. Iron Bull had taken to giving the Herald advice, Cullen was openly cheering for Talise, Varric was placing bets, Cassandra and Sera were gathered together, shouting words of encouragement to Talise, proclaiming women better than men. Blackwall stood next to Cullen, shouting encouragement to both assassin and warrior, sparring in the ring, while Cole stood nearby, watching the fight from underneath his wide-brimmed hat.

From the sidelines, Alistair stood, watching Talise fight, marveling at her skills. Admiration gleamed in his golden-brown eyes as he watched her fight, his arms folded over his muscled chest. Guards stood nearby, close enough to protect their king, but far enough to give him some peace, he had spent much of the morning dealing with the nobles, answering messages from Denerim, and slowly, ever so slowly, starting to thaw the relationship with Orlais.

“She is not for you, Your Majesty” Maggie stepped up beside him, leaning on her staff as she walked.

“I… I know”, even all his years on the throne, the training and education he had undergone at Eamon’s behest, could not keep the blush from his cheeks, as Maggie spoke, her words arrowing beneath his façade.

“Even if she was meant for you, you blew your chance.” The Rivaini seer kept her gaze trained on Talise, watching intently as her niece traded blows with the Herald.

“Blew my chance?? How??”

“Once upon a time, Eamon counseled you about your… feelings for my niece. I believe he told you Talise was just the daughter of a mercenary.” For a moment, Magdalena was not a talented seer, but merely protective of the last of her family, and an old anger gleamed in her dark gaze.

Alistair stared down at Magdalena, color darkening to his high cheekbones in a flush of deep pink, “How do you know this?”

Maggie gestured to the sparring ring, where Talise had narrowly avoided Christopher’s giant practice sword, “Talise overheard you and him talking. The next day she came to me and asked to go to Rivain.”

The color drained from Alistair’s light olive complexion, he lost his golden complexion as he stared down at the Rivaini seer, “I… I remember that talk. Eamon was insistent that I marry Fereldan nobility as soon as possible and produce an heir.”

“And I believe he wanted you to marry the daughter of a Bann that swore fealty to Redcliffe. Talise was a threat to everything he had put into place.”

Alistair nodded mutely, unable to speak as he processed what Maggie had told him. His gaze went back to Talise, she stood at one end of the ring, as he watched, Cullen wiped her face with a damp cloth, and flipped her braid back over one slim shoulder.

Magdalena spoke then, as Alistair grew quiet, watching Talise intently, “She had feelings for you, Your Majesty. Hearing Eamon say that about her, it sent an arrow through her.”

“I…”

“And then, you did not defend her, did not argue with Eamon. While you did not marry the noble’s daughter he had chosen for you, you took his advice concerning Talise,” Maggie paused, biting her lip for a moment before lifting her dark gaze to Alistair, “I will deny telling you this, should it ever come up again.”

Out of reflex, a decade in the keep, where ears listened at every turn, Alistair looked over his shoulder for a moment, and then around himself carefully, before his gaze returned to the practice ring, “I promise I will not break your confidence.”

“She trained in Rivain, as you know. She threw herself into training, and she is naturally good at it. The more she studied and learned, the more she trained, the more her feelings faded. She came to me one night and said she realized, before we left Denerim, that she could never be with you, could never be a princess in your castle. ‘I am an assassin Maggie. Not nobility.’” Even the memory of that night sent an ache through Magdalena, and she could not keep it from her voice. Across from them, Talise and Christopher battled on, the assassin unaware that her aunt was revealing a long-held secret, to the man it concerned.

“That’s not… that’s not why.”

“No, she was a commoner. And you listened too intently to Eamon, and believed he had your best interests at heart. But she didn’t see that. She saw a noble man, judging her for what she was not, missing all that she was, even then”, Maggie nodded, understanding in her gaze.

“I will not interfere with their relationship Maggie, you have my word.” Alistair sighed, his broad shoulders drooping.

“There are some loves meant to take us every sunrise for the rest of our lives. And there are some meant only to take to us to the next sunset. Talise was never meant to be your sunrise, or she would be with you now.”

“I know there is wisdom in those words, but it’s a bit too painful to hear right now.”

“Then remember them when you are ready.”

“Do you have any advice that doesn’t break my heart Magdalena?”

“Call me Maggie”, the Rivaini seer paused, watching her niece spar with the Herald, “Talise was right, you are a better king when you lead from the heart and the head, than when you try to please your advisors. You’re a good man Alistair, lead as your see fit, not as others do.”

“My advisors will not be pleased to hear that, I’m sure.” Despite the heaviness of their conversation, Alistair managed a grin, imaging the reaction among his advisors and the landsmeet, should he start to ignore their counsel.

Maggie snorted, fighting back a laugh as she nodded in agreement to his words, “I’m sure they will not. You have placed them in positions of power, and following your own instincts takes that power. They will not like losing it.”

“Zevran said similar to me this morning.”

“He is right. Follow his advice, although he often seems to care for little, what he does care about he gives his whole heart to. See the man, and not the Crow, be his friend, and you will never have a more loyal friend in return.”

“Would you like a spot on my Council? You have given better advice in just a few minutes than they have in months.” He held out a large, heavily muscled arm for Maggie to lean on, and pointedly ignored the startled looks from some of those gathered around the ring. The King of Ferelden, talking with a Rivaini seer, it was a rather odd sight.

Maggie laughed, leaning on Alistair’s arm as she shook her head, “They would die of fright should I come to give you counsel. And my place is here, all three of my orphans need me now.”

“Once this is done, you are more than welcome at my court. I owe your family much. And I like your company”, Alistair smiled down at Maggie.

“Ahhh... I see why you have such a way with the ladies. Being with you is rather like staring at a great bronze statue. One with a fondness for cheese, I understand.”

As Maggie and Alistair had spoken, Talise and Christopher had continued to spar. Christopher fought as most warriors did, a sword and shield extensions of his hands. Unable to take a solid blow, Talise relied on speed, and flexibility, and her short statue meant she could get in between Christopher and his shield, to land a practice blow. She had done that several times, until Christopher had shoved her across the sparring ring. Talise moved faster than most could watch, launching herself off the ground, and wrapping her slim thighs around Christopher from behind, and then flinging herself backwards, using her body weight to flip the warrior over her frame. She was faster than Christopher to get back up, and when he tried to rise, the ball of one booted foot was planted against the back of his neck.

“And that…” Talise panted, chest heaving, “Is how you fight someone taller than you.”

The spectators around the ring were silent for a moment, staring at the scene before them. Talise stepped back from Christopher, picking up his sword with one hand, and holding out her other for him to take, tugging him to feet. Both out of breath and sweating, they grinned at each other, Christopher tugging Talise to him for a hug, her small frame all but blocked out by his. Shouts and cheers broke out around the ring, Sera jumped up and down and Cassandra laughed, and Cullen stepped into the ring, taking Talise’s small face in one hand and wiping at a smear of dirt across her cheek with the other, his honeyed gaze looking over her frame carefully for injuries.

“That’s my girl”, Maggie smiled widely as she watched the fight, and Talise eventually win it, pride written across her features.

“She is something to behold”, Alistair murmured, his gaze tracing over Talise’s dirt smeared form, admiration evident in his eyes.

“If you don’t mind Alistair, I would not mind an escort from a handsome man to the library. And perhaps the kitchen, the cook was working on a rather large batch of cookies.” Maggie patted the king’s arm, gently drawing him away from the scene. An understanding gleam in her dark eyes as she looked up at him.

“I am supposed to be meeting with the Fereldan ambassador… but did you say cookies?”

“Si. These lemon cookies she makes. They are wonderful.” Half leading, and half being led, Maggie makes her way towards the kitchen. Long years, and her own experiences, have gifted her with an understanding and sympathetic ear. Over a platter of cookies, hiding out in the mage tower, Alistair unburdened himself to the Rivaini seer, and she in turn, let him talk, not as the king, but simply as the man.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talise and Iron Bull sat in front of the Gull and Lantern. The giant Qunari was leaning comfortably against a stone wall, and Talise leaned against his side. Both, although seemingly occupied with their conversation, were carefully watching the people coming and going from the tavern and walking on the cobbled road down the steps.

“Who do you think is in there?” Bull tilted his head towards the Inn, his gaze flicking down to the top of Talise’s dark head.

“He’s definitely not a servant. Carries himself with respect, with authority. He has that _walk_.”

“The entitled noble walk?”

“That’s the one. Whoever this retainer is, he’s well-connected.”  As Talise answered Bull, Christopher and Dorian came up the steps. The Herald wore a look of concern on his features, his face kept carefully neutral, while Dorian tried his best to keep a look of disaffected concern on his features.

“Shall we get this nonsense over with?” The Tevinter asked, heaving a sigh.

“Boss, we still don’t know who the retainer is.” Bull murmured the words quietly.

“He’s not a mere servant, we know that much”, Talise flicked her gaze over Dorian’s face, reaching out to squeeze his hand, “But he seems to be the only one here. No sign of anyone else.”

“Dorian, the choice is yours. We can talk to them, and see what they want, or we can leave now” Christopher gestured back to where their horses stood, giving them an out.

“Nothing is going to happen Vint”, Bull rumbled, “They try anything stupid, and we take them out.”

“You’re stuck with us Dorian, we won’t let anything happen.” Talise added, pushing herself up to stand beside him as she spoke.

For a moment, Dorian said nothing, his gaze bouncing between Christopher, Iron Bull, and then finally Talise. His jaw ticked as he gritted his teeth against a sudden swamping of tears, and he shook his head, “No, I’m not running. Let’s go see what they want.”

While Christopher and Dorian were inside, Iron Bull paced, checked to make sure they had a clear exit, patrolling the docks, and finally sat down next to Talise. The assassin grinned up at the Qunari, mischief dancing in her summer bright gaze, “You seem awfully tense. Is there something on your mind Bull?”

“Just don’t want Christopher getting knocked over the head by some Vint trying to get Dorian back to his father”, Bull muttered, watching as Talise drew a dagger from her back.

“Hmmm… you’re just concerned about Christopher then?”

“And Dorian. He might be Tevinter, but he’s a good…” Bull paused as Talise’s shoulders shook, his features growing concerned, “What’s wrong?”

Talise was as she giggled, fighting hard to cover her mouth and stifle her laughter, “Nothing… it’s just… you care more than you’re letting on.”

Iron Bull stared at Talise for a moment, his gray eye focused on her as she grinned around her hand at him, “I care about him the same I do for you. And Amelia and Valissia.”

At Bull’s words, Talise snorted, losing her attempt at hiding her laughter, “Please… you definitely don’t look at me or either of them the same way you look at Dorian.”

“Oh, and how’s that Morning Glory?”

“You’re stripping him naked. I can’t blame you, he’s very handsome.”

Bull shook his head at Talise’s words, shifting to lean down until he could look into the assassin’s face, “See, that’s where you haven’t been paying attention. Because yeah, I do look at you the same way. Every man does. Every woman who likes women do.”

Talise’s laughter died away, and a blush overtook her, turning her smooth cheeks turning pink, “I….”

“I always wonder what Cullen is doing when you scream his name that way. We don’t hear it now that he’s closed that hole in the ceiling. But that time you went at in the war room… sound carries Talise”, watching her blush, Bull grinned, nudging her gently, “If you get tired of Cullen, I’ll let you ride the Bull.”

“Bull!!!”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask… how did those restraints the commander ordered turn out? I gave him the name of someone who makes them, and I know who he ordered them for.” Thoroughly enjoying embarrassing Talise, while at the same time distracting her from Dorian, Bull continues to lean down to her, whispering the words to the top of her head.

“Maker… Bull, I am going to kill you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome to try. I might like it though.”

Talise buried her face in her gloved hands, desperately wishing for anywhere to hide, and Iron Bull laughed, folding his arms over his barrel chest. Christopher slipped out of the tavern, and frowned, looking from Talise to Bull, and then back to the assassin, “It was his father, not a retainer. They’re going to talk.”

Talise blinked, her sky touched gaze going wide over the tops of her fingers, “I had no idea. I knew he was a noble, from the way the servants were acting. But to be an actual Tevinter magister… Dorian’s father, here.”

Christopher nodded, sighing and picking up a spot beside Talise, his deep green eyes locked on the door, “Dorian is upset. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or do. I don’t care whose company he keeps, that has never been important to me. But…”

“But…” Bull prompted, looking over the top of his giant axe at Christopher.

“It is Dorian’s story to tell, not mine”, shaking his head, Christopher leaned against the wall, keeping his gaze focused on the door.

“Bull… next time you want to deflect the conversation away from yourself, just say so”, Talise spoke, her gaze tracking over the windows of the inn, and following a steady stream of servants coming in and out of a side entrance.

Iron Bull grinned, nudging Talise with one arm, the movement enough to push her into Christopher, who had to brace himself against the wall, “And you say you’re not good at playing the Game, you saw right through that.”

“I never said I’m not good at it, I said I don’t like playing it”, Talise grinned, relaxing in the sunshine as they waited for Dorian to come out.

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia's secret comes out, and it leaves Valissia and Talise reeling. The loss of her brother has dominated Talise's life these past few months, and just as she seeks to move past his death, it all comes back to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. I hate writing angst. It hurts me to put the characters I put so much love and energy into through pain, which is probably why it took me so long to get to writing this. 
> 
> A little teaser, next chapter we're going to see why the three women are so tightly bonded together. And Cullen gets the final word in.

 

Talise and Valissia sat in the room Maggie had commandeered in the mage tower. Valissia was worked on a batch of healing potions, mixing them gently, while Talise flipped through pages of reports, slim legs dangling over the arm of a chair.

Amelia climbed the steps to the tower slowly, her lower lip trembling as she gazed at the doors. At both Dorian and Bull’s urging, she had decided to tell her friends about her love affair with Jordan, and the storm mage was afraid. Talise had fallen into a bleak depression when word came of Jordan’s death, the loss of her brother had driven her to Skyhold, where she expected to die for her work as an assassin. The burden of carrying her secrets had taken its toll, and she needed the support of her friends.

Behind her, Rylen stood, watching the blonde storm mage intently, the report he was carrying forgotten for the moment. He had watched Amelia since Jader, when the secret she carried had come spilling out, watched her struggle, had seen her pacing the ramparts at night, watched her unable to eat. Just when she stepped back from the doors to the mage tower, Rylen moved, taking a step towards her.

A large, gray hand landed on his shoulder, and the templar turned, looking up into Iron Bull’s scarred face. The giant Qunari shook his head, “Been meaning to talk… Amelia… needs space. There are things she needs to work out for herself.”

“Has she told Talise yet? About Jordan?”

Very rarely was Bull caught off guard, but he blinked several times down at Rylen, “She told you then?”

Rylen nodded, looking back as Amelia finally slipped into the mage tower, “She told me, and then had nothing to do with me. She still hardly speaks to me.”

Iron Bull regarded Rylen for a moment, before nodding, “She told you her secret, and that makes you too close. Except for Talise and Valissia, she has kept everyone at arm’s length.”

The templar nodded, “I know.”

“If you care about her, at all, you need to give her time.”

Rylen nodded once more, “It’s obvious she’s struggling.”

“Come on, I’ll buy you a drink”, Iron Bull gestured towards the Herald’s Rest with his mangled hand.

“Has Michel been to see her?” Rylen could not resist asking the question, his hawkish gaze flicking back to Amelia as he spoke.

“Things are strained between them. He was waiting to speak with Josephine, I think she had mentioned something about an escort for an Orlesian noble.” Bull answered, watching the templar watch Amelia.

Rylen nodded, a frown deepening the furrows between his eyes, “She does not need to be hurt further.”

“Talise won’t let that happen, you know that.”

“Things have happened beyond even Talise’s control”, Rylen retorted, sighing when Amelia finally disappeared into the mage tower, “But I cannot protect her either.”

“No, this is a battle she has to face on her own.” Bull murmured, “Now, about that drink.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you ready to talk Amelia?” Talise spoke the question gently, stretching one leg to push a chair towards Amelia, while lifting her gaze from the report she was reading.

Amelia stood in the doorway, her lip held prisoner between her teeth for a moment. While she had sought comfort from her friends, she had been unable to tell them what had happened. Neither Valissia nor Talise had pressed for answers but had grown increasingly concerned over their friend. Slowly the storm mage stepped into the room, sinking into the chair Talise had pushed to her.

Two pairs of eyes, Talise’s bright cerulean gaze and Valissia’s stormy gray one, looked at Amelia as she eased into the chair. Already her hands were shaking, and she felt the familiar rise of tears swamping her serpent stone gaze, “I’m sorry… it’s all my fault.”

Talise moved, twisting her body around until both booted feet were planted on the floor, and slid her chair across the floor until her knees were touching Amelia’s, “I sincerely doubt you’ve done anything wrong Amelia.”

“Before we get too deep into this, let me get some tea. Amelia you must eat”, Valissia laid a pale hand on the back of Amelia’s neck, sighing when the storm mage was wracked by a stifled sob, “Talise??”

“I’ve got her. We’ll wait until you get back.” Talise nodded, gesturing to the door with one hand.

While Valissia forced her to eat something, and drink a cup of tea, Amelia finally unburdened herself. Every secret she had kept came tumbling out into the open, and although she cried, Amelia managed to keep her tumultuous emotions under control, “So it’s my fault. Jordan couldn’t be with me at the royal court, so he planned to marry me in secret, at Nightreach, and live there. But to do that he had to leave Alistair’s service.”

Talise had grown even more pale as Amelia spoke, while Valissia had cried almost from the start, sniffling and wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief, one embroidered with a fancy T. At some point, Amelia had curled up on a nearby cot, and lay with her head in Talise’s lap, while Valissia sat on the edge of the bed.

“It is not your fault. Just like it’s… not mine”, Talise still struggled with her brother’s death, and she paused, sucking in a deep breath.

“It is. If I hadn’t been born a mage…”

“No. The laws about mages are to blame. The attitudes and the fear and all the silly superstition. Those are to blame. But you are not to blame, at all Amelia, you must stop this.” Valissia spoke, gripping the storm mage’s hand tightly.

“If I could never see him again, but he could come back and be with his family, I would be happy”, Amelia finally broke then, and sobbed, clinging to Talise and apologizing.

The sun dipped low, almost to the ramparts, when Amelia was calm enough to let go of Talise. By agreement Valissia and Talise had given the storm mage a potion to help her sleep, letting her get the rest she had been denied for so long. Leaving Valissia with Amelia, Talise slipped from the mage tower, and made her way to Dorian’s spot in the library.

“Please don’t be mad. I didn’t want to break her confidence”, One look at the shattered expression on Talise’s face, and Dorian knew what had transpired in the tower between the three women.

“No, no, I don’t blame you. Thank you, for being there for her”, Talise sniffled, wiping at her summer bright eyes with the back of her sleeve.

“I can’t imagine what it’s been like for all of you,” gently Dorian drew Talise into a hug, letting the shorter woman lean against his chest for a moment while rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“Will you… will,” Talise paused, fighting back the sob that rose to her throat, “Will you find Cullen? And have him meet me in the chapel?”

“Of course, would you like me to walk you there?”

Nodding, Talise clung to Dorian as he walked her through the keep, and towards the chapel, whispering to a passing servant, who hurried towards the commander’s quarters above the portcullis.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magdalena sat with Amelia, carefully combing out the storm mage’s golden curls. Valissia had whispered the story to her, through her own tears, before searching for Christopher. Her niece, the quiet, watchful Talise, had run for Cullen as soon as she could, Maggie knew. That left her, carefully easing the knots and tangles from Amelia’s hair.

“Oh, my heart… why didn’t you say something earlier?” the Rivaini seer whispered. She knew the pain of losing a love and knew the pain of losing family. Like Talise and Valissia, she had sensed something was amiss with Amelia, but the storm mage had been unwilling or unable to talk.

Hazy, reddened emeraldine eyes blinked open as Amelia stirred. When she saw Maggie sitting on the edge of the bed, shining tears swamped her gaze as she pushed herself upright, “I’m sorry Maggie. It’s all my fault.”

“Hush. It is not, and you know it.” Maggie shook her head no, a wrinkled hand curling around Amelia’s thin shoulder, squeezing in comfort, “Love isn’t to blame. And I must thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“My nephew knew love. I was concerned, when he would visit me, or I would visit him, and read his letters, he never spoke of a love”, Maggie pulled Amelia to her, until the storm mage could prop her head on the Rivaini’s shoulder, “Do you remember, mija, after you all came to stay with me, when you would sit up like this at night and watch the storms on the ocean?”

Amelia managed a smile, nodding as her fingers twisted a bracelet around her wrist, “I do. You told me that to understand my magic, I had to understand the storms.”

“And do you?”

“Storms are a part of life. They bring wind and rain and lightning. But they bring the energy life needs. They bring rain.”

“Si. You do understand”, Maggie reached for the plate Valissia had brought, and held out a small muffin, “Eat. You are thinner than even Talise.”

Amelia managed to eat the muffin, although Maggie was reduced to breaking it apart into bites for her and forcing a cup of tea on her. The Rivaini seer kept her voice light, and her features composed as she spoke, “Grieve for my nephew, tonight. But in the morning, remember who you are Amelia, there is no power on Thedas that can stop a storm.”

“Maggie… When I sleep, I don’t feel like I’m my own dreams”, Amelia speaks around the last bite of muffin, raking a hand through her tousled blonde curls.

Maggie grew more alert and focused, her dark gaze raking over Amelia’s features, “You don’t? Tell me mija, what do you see in your dreams?”

“Sometimes I see things I’ve read about in books. Sometimes I see other people. I have no control over it, it just happens.”

“Solas”, Maggie whispered the name, staring at her tea cup thoughtfully for several moments, her gaze lifting to Amelia, “We need to speak with Solas. Not right now, in the morning. You need to rest for tonight.”

“I….” Amelia paused, letting her sentence die out. In truth she had spent most of her life with someone, she grew up with her brother, with Talise and the assassin’s brother Jordan, with Valissia. After the Fifth Blight ended, she had come with Talise to Rivain, and stayed with Maggie.

“Would you like some company mija?” Maggie smiled, the three women had been drawn together tightly by forces outside the seer’s knowledge, but she knew none of them were used to being alone. Talise had finally opened up, let someone in to her heart, and Valissia was on the cusp of something deep with Christopher, Maggie would not let either be disturbed.

Maggie walked with Amelia to the room over the garden and saw to it the storm mage had a hot bath and more to eat than a muffin. The Rivaini seer fell into the maternal role she had taken on with all three of the women easily, and Amelia fell asleep having her blonde curls combed gently out once more. At a knock on the door, Maggie slipped from the bed, and opened it, to find Dorian and Iron Bull standing there, the mage and warrior both wearing looks of concern and anxiousness.

“Talise is in the chapel with Cullen. Or she was. Valissia is with Christopher and he has ordered they are not to be disturbed for the evening. I wanted to check on…” as the words spilled out of Dorian, Iron Bull laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

Maggie moved enough to let them see Amelia, sleeping on the bed. The storm mage’s features were relaxed in sleep, and Dorian let out an audible murmur of thanks.

“I take it you knew then?”

“She came to us… well I’m not sure who she was looking for, but she told us both.”

“Thank you for taking care of her and getting her to talk to Talise and Valissia. Dorian, did you tell you about her dreams?”

“Told both of us” Bull responded, clearly still uncomfortable with the idea of magic.

Maggie nodded, shutting the door and leaning against it, “If what she is saying is true... I’m not sure what the Tevinter call them.”

“Somniari.”

“Ahhh yes, that is the word. I think I’ve read about it.”

“Isn’t it unusual for a human to be a dreamer?”

“Not necessarily Bull. But there is more to Amelia than you see.”

“The Storm Raiders had elves fighting with them…” the former Ben-Hassrath squinted as he looked at Amelia for a moment, letting his thoughts wander.

“Yes, they did.   You can draw your own conclusions.” Maggie nodded.

Dorian’s eyes widened, “A mage and she’s elven blooded? No wonder she’s terrified of a Circle.”

Iron Bull and Maggie nodded in agreement at Dorian’s words. The three of them remained just outside Amelia’s room, speaking quietly, pausing to check on the storm mage. When the evening sky deepened, Maggie sent Iron Bull and Dorian away with a knowing grin on her face, promising to let them know if Amelia asked for either one of them.

“Amelia”, Maggie whispered the words in the deep of night, brushing the mage’s blonde curls back with a tattooed, wrinkled hand, “Thank you. For loving Jordan. My nephew died knowing love, and that is the best gift you could have given him.”

The storm mage, curled tightly into a ball beneath a heavy layer of blankets, did not stir at Maggie’s words, her breathing deep and even; her fingers, topped with nails bitten down to the quick, twitched though, and Amelia clung tightly to Maggie for a moment. The Rivaini seer slipped away, digging through a small pack she had brought with her, and lit a bundle of herbs with a murmured spell; when they grew smoky, she moved around the room, waving the burning herbs in the room, singing a spell softly as she stepped lightly, the bracelets she wore jingling quietly. Amelia relaxed further, gradually uncurling and stretching out atop the bed, the sweet-smelling smoke hanging in the air. Maggie blew the herbs out, set what was left of them in a small bowl, and stretched out next to Amelia on the bed, reaching for a book to read as she sat beside the sleeping mage.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valissia had seemed a walking ghost, drawing several shocked glances, as she looked for the Herald. When she saw Christopher, he abruptly ended his conversation with several nobles, and had swept her off to his room. Now they sat in front of a roaring fire, Valissia wrapped in a large blanket from he had tugged his from his bed, curled up in his lap.

“She’s right you know…”

“About what?”

“If she had been born anything but a mage, Jordan might still be…”

“Valissia, stop.”

“It’s true.”

“Stop it Valissia, please.”

“I have never asked you to do anything, as Herald.”

“No, you’ve been very careful to do the opposite, in fact.”

“I’m asking you now. Please, when all this is done and over, use whatever power and influence you have. Change things. Make them better for all of us.” Valissia sniffled, managed to heave a breath into her chest, and then her sobs broke, her tears soaking the tunic shirt Christopher wore, seeping into the fabric over his shoulder.

When she finally broke, Christopher sighed, folding his arms around her, “Listen to me, I will never let anyone harm you. Or Amelia. You won’t go into a Tower.”

“But I’ll never have my freedom either.”

“Yes, you will. We’re going to change things.” Christopher stood, lifting Valissia from his lap, and carrying her to the couch. His conversation with Talise, when she had pushed him to speak about his true feelings, hung in the back of his mind. One look at Valissia’s face, her eyes swollen from the tears that left tracks across her freckled cheeks, and he knew this moment was not the time.

Instead he called for a dinner, and a hot bath. Rolling up the sleeves to his tunic, he scrubbed Valissia’s back, washed and combed out her auburn and copper hair, finally, with the gentlest of touches, he washed her face clean of her own tears. Once Valissia was wrapped in one of his shirts and a velveteen robe, he sat with her at his desk, listening as she worked through her notes on a new healing tonic. In his neat handwriting, lists of what she needed grew, as Valissia flipped through a book over their shared meal. He knew that Valissia’s emotions could be assuaged working, and he was perfectly willing to play secretary for her, while she worked.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cullen had abandoned his desk, the reports he had been reading and writing, when a servant came in to tell him Dorian had sent for him and asked him to meet Talise in the chapel. Despite her odd mixture of beliefs, seemingly Andrastian at one turn and a nature worshipper at another, the chapel had become Talise’s sanctuary. Now his booted feet rang out on the stones as he walked across the garden to it, his gaze automatically going to the stone gazebo in one corner. As often as he could, he slipped away to play chess, enduring Dorian and Leliana’s obvious cheating, matching wits with Iron Bull, and despite his protests, letting Talise win a match or two.

Talise was not there, but instead the door to the chapel was open. Varric leaned against one side of the doorway, and when the surface dwarf lifted his gaze from inside, he sighed, “Amelia finally told Talise was had been bothering her.”

Cullen came to a stop, his amber gaze focused intently on Varric, “And?”

“Well Curly, it appears Amelia and Jordan had feelings for each other. He asked to leave the royal guard, so he could marry her, in quiet.”

For a moment Cullen said nothing, before he sighed, running a gloved hand over his face, “Which would have had to have been done in secret, because Amelia is an apostate. Or was. Alistair asked him to go to the Conclave before he left the guard, and…”

“Haven”, Varric finished, nodding in agreement, “It’s like losing him all over again.”

Cullen leaned into the chapel, just enough to see Talise sitting on the steps, her face buried in her hands, Sera sitting next to her. The Red Jenny said nothing, she seemed, for once, at a loss for words, but she held Talise firmly against her side.

“Told you he’d be here”, Sera whispered to Talise, sliding away from her enough to stand up and walk over to Cullen and Varric, “I didn’t know what to say, I’m shite with crying women. But I didn’t want her to alone.”

“You did a good job Buttercup”, Varric said, gesturing to the doors on the other side of the garden, “But she needs Curly.”

“Thank you, Sera, for staying with her.” Cullen nodded, “I believe Josephine is organizing a game of Wicked Grace.”

“Since you’re not going to be there, I wonder who will wind up naked this time.” Sera grinned impishly up at Cullen, while Varric snorted at her comment.

When the two rogues slipped away, Cullen turned his attention back to Talise. She was sitting in front of the statue of Andraste, her forehead propped on her knees. Waves of dark hair, the same color as the Orlesian chocolate she so loved, fell around her shoulders, gleaming with threads of red and gold from the candles that surrounded her. When she lifted her chin and peered at him from underneath a fan of dark lashes, Cullen’s heart twisted. She was as beautiful as she had been that first night she was here, and just as heartbroken, tears gleamed her gaze, slipping down her smooth cheeks.

“I’m here”, Cullen stepped across the room, stopping in front of Talise, and holding his arms out. The assassin stood on shaking knees, until she could press her tear-stained face against the cold metal of his chest plate.

“When I was little, and I was upset… my father would tell me to tell him what was wrong, so he could fix it”, her voice was little more than a whisper, she was hoarse from crying.

“I remember my sister’s asking my father the same thing”, gently Cullen ran a hand down Talise’s back, rubbing gently.

When she spoke, Talise lifted her face from Cullen’s chest, tears forming in her gaze once more, “Can you fix it? It hurts, and I can’t say the words and I don’t know what to do. Please… just make it better.”

Her plea felt like a dagger sent through his heart, Cullen tightened his grip on her small frame, wrapping his arms more tightly around her, “I would if I could. I would give anything to spare you this, you know that.”

Talise, feared assassin, daughter of a mercenary captain, sister to captain of a king’s royal guard, nobility herself, crumbled. Her wobbly knees gave way, heavy sobs shook her frame, robbing her of breath, and her fingers slid frantically over Cullen’s armored chest. He caught her easily, holding her to him as he mounted the steps in front of the gleaming statue of Andraste, and then eased down, tucking her small frame between his legs, which he stretched out on the steps. Talise clung to Cullen, her face buried in his surcoat, tears soaking into the red and black fur, unable to stop the tremors that shook her frame against his.

Cullen sat on the steps, his back to the statue of Andraste, one large hand rubbing Talise’s back, the other keeping her pulled tight to him, murmuring prayers, telling Talise how much he loved her, how badly he felt for the loss of her brother, as she cried, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. She could only sustain the flood of emotion for so long, but the candles had burned low before she was no longer trembling, and she leaned against Cullen, almost limp.

Cullen heaved a sigh, tipping her chin up with gentle fingers to press a kiss to her forehead, “I would take you from this if I could, you know that, right?”

Talise nodded, closing her eyes and leaning her back against his armored shoulder, letting the cool air from the open door cool her overheated face, “I know. I’m sorry I…”

“You are grieving for yourself. And for Amelia. Please don’t tell me you’re sorry”, he continued to rub her back, leaning his cheek against her forehead. They sat in silence as more of the candles burned, before Cullen pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Come on, let’s go…”

“Will you do me a favor?”

“You don’t even have to ask Talise.”

“Will you check on Valissia and Amelia? I just want…” Talise wanted nothing more than to hide in Cullen’s quarters, locking the memories of her brother and his death away.

“Go. I’ll have dinner sent to you, it won’t take me too long.” Gently Cullen pushed Talise to her feet, keeping a large hand planted on her back until she gained her balance. Sitting on the stone of the altar had stiffened his joints, and he fought back the grimace when his knees and shoulders ached as he moved. Keeping one arm firmly around Talise, he walked her as far as the nearest stairs to the battlements, before turning and making his way towards the main hall.

There, the doors to Christopher’s quarters opened, and the Herald stepped out, rubbing at his temples as the door shut behind him. Seeing Cullen out of the corner of his eye, he nodded in greeting, “Commander… I’m guessing Talise sent you to check on Valissia?”

Cullen nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck, “She did. Did Valissia send you?”

Christopher nodded, a wan smile not quite meeting his eyes, “Of course. The bond between them is strong, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I haven’t either. But it has kept them alive and safe, which I’m grateful for.”

“Cullen? How did you… did you just blurt out the words or did you mean to tell her?”

“Tell who, what Herald?”

Christopher sighed, dropping into the throne that dominated the dais, his shoulders slumping, “I love her. But I can never get the words out. I don’t want to just tell her, I want it to mean something.”

Cullen watched as the Herald, the man who led the Inquisition, who had rarely faltered, dropped into the throne, fighting back a sense of alarm that abruptly turned into humor. Valissia was just barely taller than Talise, possessing a quiet sense of humor, and a brilliant mind; and Christopher looked as if he had been poleaxed by her. Grinning he followed Christopher to the throne, leaning against it, “I’m afraid I’m of no help. I did not expect Talise in my life.”

“I did not expect Valissia either. A mage. An apostate no less. And yet...”

“My own opinions about mages has changed. I’ve been unfair towards them. Valissia is not like Anders, or the mages at Fereldan’s circle.”

“How do I tell her?”

“I can’t… I meant to tell Talise differently, to make it special somehow, and instead, it slipped out.”

Christopher laughed, leaning back in that stupid throne everyone insisted he use, “It has been… humorous to watch you trip over your own feet for Talise.”

Cullen’s cheeks pinkened in a blush, but he laughed anyways, “Training did not include romance, unfortunately.”

“Perhaps I should talk to Josephine. Or Leliana, they would know what to do. Even Cassandra has a weakness for romance, have you seen the books she reads?” The Herald could not suppress his laughter when he mentioned the Seeker and her smutty literature.

“Maker’s breath, it’s awful. I couldn’t get more than two pages in.”

Christopher nodded, doubling over to laugh for several moments. After the stress of the evening, he felt lighter, his shoulders did not slump with the weight of the world as he pushed up from the throne, “Commander, I promised Valissia I would check in with Amelia.”

“Would you send word to me? I promised the same to Talise, but I do not wish to bombard Amelia with visitors, she’s had enough for one day.”

“Of course,”, Nodding in agreement, Christopher heads towards the doors to the garden, “Good night Cullen.”

“Herald…” Cullen walks behind him, intent on getting back to Talise as soon as possible, “There came a moment when I could not bear the thought of letting Talise leave without telling her how I felt. That is when I told her. Since you asked earlier…”

“Thank you, Commander. I appreciate the advice”, smiling, Christopher eased, rather stealthily for a man as tall and broad-shouldered as he was, through the doors, and into the garden.

Cullen wasted no time getting back to his quarters, his long legs ate up the distance, between the doors to the keep and the battlements easily. Standing in the cool night air of the keep had eased the ache in his joints, his hands were no longer twitching from the pain. A few soldiers milled about near the doors to his quarters, and he stopped to issue orders for the night to them, before shutting and locking the doors behind him.

His heart stuttered at the sight before him, Talise was curled up in his chair, one of the keep’s many cats wrapped up in her arms, the large marmalade tabby rumbling with a purr as it stared at Cullen through golden eyes. It was a not quite secret that Cullen fed several of the keep’s cats, he insisted that it was to keep mice from over-running his quarters, but in truth, he enjoyed the quiet comfort they provided. It seemed, judging from the dark fan of lashes resting on her cheeks and her even breathing, Talise enjoyed it as well, she had fallen asleep holding the cat.

“Come on, let me have her back”, he murmured to the feline, ignoring the irritated thump of its tail on his arm as he picked the cat up with one arm, and brushed the hair back from Talise’s face with his free hand, “Come on love, you need to be in bed.”

It never took long for Talise to wake up, and she blinked up at him, bleary-eyed but already alert, “I’m sorry, I fell asleep sitting here.”

“I spoke with Christopher, Valissia is with him, she is resting, and he was going to check on Amelia,” as he spoke, Cullen held out a hand, tugging Talise to her feet, and then letting the large tabby in his other arm slip back to the chair.

Talise’s gaze automatically slide to the windows that faced the main part of the keep, her forehead wrinkling in concern for a moment, “I should…”

“Go upstairs? Yes, you should. The Herald will let us know if either one of them ask for you”, Cullen tugged his gloves off, slid out of his surcoat, and left both on his desk, before gently steering Talise to the stairs.

Talise resisted Cullen for a moment, her gaze locked on the main keep. The fierce loyalty to her friends battled with her desire to stay with Cullen, and the indecision showed in her features. Cullen’s words were true, she would know by now if either Valissia or Amelia was asking for her. The idea of just for the moment, laying down her cares and concerns, rose within her. Turning from the window, she relaxed as Cullen guided her up the circular stairs to their shared bedroom.

It took but a few moments for Talise to tug her clothes off, leaving them in a careless heap on the floor, while Cullen put his armor on a stand, but did the same with his clothes. She was almost asleep before he climbed into bed, and she shifted, murmuring in her sleep as he slid under the covers, and drew her small frame against his own, holding her against his side. The steady thump of his heart against her small ear lulled Talise to sleep, her fingers clinging tightly to his shoulder.


End file.
